Mass Effect: Inevitable
by Lara Jayd
Summary: LT Nathan Briggs was on his way to N school before being transferred to Alliance HQ in Vancouver, on guard duty. Commander Shepard was probably one of the last people in the galaxy he wanted to meet. My take on ME3. Rated M for language, violence and sexy times. Also will contain some major character death. Cover art by the amazing Beakyree. Check out her brilliance on Tumblr!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I'm not a huge fan of author's notes, but I do think you should know what you're getting into. So I'll try to be quick, and with any luck you won't hear from me again until the end.

This will be an ME3 fix-it fic primarily, with added romance for poor old FemShep. I liked some qualities of all the romance options throughout the ME series but never found one that fit quite right, so this is also an attempt to fix that (but not by creating a Garrus + Kaidan + James hybrid, rather by making a brand new OC). Add in a healthy dose of action and a bit of a plot shake-up and you have my fic. Hopefully. It's very much a WIP! I'll try and update regularly but can't guarantee it.

This is my first proper attempt at writing fanfic in years, and my first ever foray into the Mass Effect universe. As such, constructive criticism would be very welcome. If you find spelling/grammar issues, please do point those out to me as well as I currently don't have a beta to do that. I will do my best to fix them up.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Bioware/EA owns all.

* * *

**Chapter One**

Lieutenant Nathan Briggs could not wipe the smile off his face. He supposed that had a lot to do with the fact that he had drunk a copious amount of alcohol.

Mostly it was due to the orders he had received this morning.

He gestured expansively at the bartender. "Another round!" His squad cheered and moved to grab their next drinks from the bar.

Nathan's XO pushed through the pack of off-duty soldiers filling the bar, clapped him on the shoulder and gave him a good, friendly shake. "Hell of a thing, Lieutenant!" he shouted over the top of the throbbing dance music, grinning proudly.

Nathan nodded, smiling, but trying to tamp it down to keep some façade of humility at least, even if he didn't really feel it. "Thanks, Sergeant!" he shouted back, grabbing the offered hand and gripping palm to palm before letting go.

Sergeant Harris took one of the drinks sitting on the bar and passed it to his CO. Nathan accepted the drink and leaned in closer to hear the man over the top of the pounding bass. "When do you ship out?" Harris asked.

Nathan took a long drink, savouring the burn at the back of his throat as the top-shelf whisky went down. He had blown at least a fortnight's pay already tonight buying drinks for his men and women and wasn't planning on stopping any time soon. They were going to have some _fun_ tonight. After all, he was about to head off to Interplanetary Combatives Training – N school – and he would never have been nominated if it weren't for them. They had been his squad for two years now, two years of being thrown into the thick of the Terminus Systems and stomping on the throats of the pirates and slavers they found there. Two years of kicking ass and taking _names_.

His squad. _His fucking squad. _Legends, all of them. Shanti, the squad's field medic, was flirting shamelessly with Brock, their sniper, who was happily reciprocating. Shanti could fix a gut wound with nothing but a tube of medi-gel and a band-aid, and Brock made a point of always shooting Batarians in their top-right eye just because he was that good. He made a game of it, and Dangerfield, their second sniper, who was surreptitiously watching a game of poker with interest as she nursed her drink, always tried to outdo him but could never quite manage to hit with the same accuracy. Not unless she threw a stasis at her target first then got them as it wore off, anyway, but they both considered that to be cheating. Shaw and Forrest, gunnery sergeants, were already eying the talent in the room, Forrest checking out every female's rear while Shaw sought out the quarians in their skin-tight suits exclusively. Corporals Ngandu, Jarvis and Sporritt were edging their way closer to the dance floor as they downed their drinks, hips and shoulders already twitching to the beat.

Sergeant Harris hadn't been with the squad for quite as long as the others but was already fitting in easily. The guy seemed to make friends as easily as he breathed, and he was no rookie on the battlefield either.

"I leave next week," he replied. "Hitching a ride on a medical frigate heading back to Earth for shore leave. They'll drop me at the port in Vancouver and I'll head out to Rio from there."

The two of them elbowed their way through the crowd and made their way to an empty standing table. "You ever been to Earth before, LT?" Harris asked.

Nathan nodded. "Yeah, grew up in Vancouver. You?"

"Nah, not me. I'm a spacer brat. Grew up on a bunch of different merchant ships. Always wanted to see Earth, though."

Nathan nodded, taking a drink to hide the roll of his eyes. Earth. He could take or leave the place, to be honest, but he knew his opinion would not be popular with Harris. Or anyone else, really. He had been wanting to hightail it off the planet since he was twelve years old.

Of course, that wasn't the planet's fault. It was a nice planet, really. Good weather, in most places. It had some great things going for it. Like beaches, those were good. Sunshine, waves and beautiful half-naked women. All things he could appreciate.

But it was also the home of his father. That was enough to make him want to put it behind him forever. He wasn't looking forward to being back there for N school – his father was sure to try and contact him – but in this case the reward would be worth the risk.

One of the other soldiers abruptly grabbed Harris by the arm and pulled him away, laughing and waving apologetically. Another two – Privates Bailiss and Petra – came over to fill the empty side of the table. A smile spread across his face again as he chatted with his fellow soldiers. _N school_. He had worked for this his whole life, and he sure as hell wasn't going to mess it up. His squad was counting on him to make them proud. He couldn't let them down. He could practically smell the pressed gunmetal of that distinctive red and white N7 badge in his future.

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a tall, lithe asari on the edge of the dance floor. She seemed to be covertly studying him, looking him up and down. As he watched her she smiled and winked, ever so slightly, and he smiled back. She spun, and her hips moved, and he suddenly knew what he would be doing for the rest of the night. It was a celebration, after all, and he was here to have fun.

He finished off his drink in a long swig, and with Bailiss and Petra's not so subtle encouragement, headed over to join her on the dance floor.

* * *

As he woke up the next morning, the first semi-coherent thought to pass through his head was something resembling o_uch._

He sat up gingerly and pressed a hand to his temple, grimacing. On the other side of the hotel bed the sheets were crumpled but empty. The asari's bag was also missing from beside the nightstand, where she had thrown it last night. Thrown very hastily. He grinned to himself despite the headache. She had been a very… enthusiastic… partner. They had stumbled into the hotel room and gotten right down to business.

Dragging himself out of bed, he popped a couple of painkillers from his duffel bag then hit the shade modulator on the window, allowing bright simulated morning sun to spread across the bedroom floor. It wasn't quite the same as a planetary sunrise, as the light was spread evenly throughout the open areas of the Citadel rather than rising from one particular point, but it did the job.

Nathan stumbled into the shower and set the hot water running, mind already valiantly trying to sift through all the things he would need to do today to be ready to ship out next week. He would have to hand the squad over to a new commander, of course, and to that end he had already completed his personnel reports and recommended XO Harris to replace him. Even in the short time he had known the Sergeant he had gained a healthy respect for the man's abilities. He would make a good leader and Nathan would be comfortable knowing he had left his squad in good hands. He needed to drop those reports off to his sector chief in person, so he could answer the inevitable questions that would follow them up, and wanted to be fresh for that since it would no doubt be a giant pain in the ass, and he would probably be there for a while. He decided to go there first and get it over with, after stopping by the Alliance barracks to change into his uniform.

Half an hour later, in the small room he shared with another Lieutenant at the barracks, he was shrugging on his navy blue regulation jacket over a standard t-shirt. As he clipped the pins denoting his rank to his collar he took one last look at his reflection in the mirror. Short nut brown hair, slightly tousled, brown eyes only a little bloodshot. Clean shaven… well, close enough. He grabbed a brush and ran it through his hair, probably doing more harm than good, then grabbed his omnitool wrist band off the counter and snapped it on. The synth mesh adhered to his skin, then popped up with a small symbol denoting readiness and another symbol showing that he had unread messages. He set it to audio as he gathered up his personal data pad and cred chip and stuffed them in his pockets, ready to head out.

"_New message received from Second Lieutenant Jin, on behalf of Admiral David Anderson's office, 0727 local time. Attention: First Lieutenant Nathan Briggs. Report to SSV Nimbus at 1300 hours Wednesday the 23__rd__ of June for transport to Vancouver, Earth, for your next assignment—"_

"Stop." Nathan interrupted, frowning. He held up the omnitool and with a few quick finger movements brought up the mail interface manually. He read over the message again.

_Vancouver? Today? They've pushed up my transport date?_

No, that couldn't be right. The ICT program didn't start until the following week, and if the Alliance shipped him over there now he would just be sitting around doing nothing until then. Was the _Nimbus _the only ship going to Earth between then and now?

He grunted to himself. Of course not. Earth was a major hub world for galactic trade, not to mention the homeworld of one of the races represented on the Council. There was never any shortage of vessels going from the Citadel to Earth.

Extra leave before ICT began, then? It was possible… but unlikely. Adding it to the leave he had already received on the Citadel, it would be an unusually large amount of time off.

Was there a special task he needed to perform on this particular ship on the way to Earth? No… as skilled as he was, those skills were hardly unique. He had a good grasp of military tactics and could shoot things pretty well; that was about it. He supposed he also meddled with tech a little, but he wouldn't really consider himself an expert.

He needed more information about this change of plans. There was a file attached to the message, entitled 'Mission Parameters'. He sat down on his bunk and opened it.

'_Alliance Military Police – Protection Division._

_Located on all major Alliance military command posts, the MP Protection Division is responsible for the safety and security of all military personnel on- and off-base…'_

He stopped reading. Well, now he was officially thrown for a loop. _Protection Division?_ Why was—How could he be assigned to the Protection Division only a few days before he was supposed to report to the villa for N training?

With a sinking feeling, he realised he knew the answer to that. N school had to be off. He must have been reassigned.

But why? He racked his brain for something he might have done wrong. He had drunk a significant amount of alcohol last night, but he could still remember the whole night and he was sure he hadn't hit anyone or broken anything. He hadn't broken any regs by going out and drinking – they were all on shore leave, it was practically expected behaviour. Could the asari have filed a false report against him? Claiming he hurt her, or… took advantage of her? No. That couldn't possibly be true; if it was, he would have been carted off to a prison cell by the MPs, not transferred into their ranks.

Whatever he had done, it had to have been before last night. The problem was, his record was exemplary. Perfect. Practically covered in gold stars. Normally he wouldn't consider that a problem – in fact, he considered it a point of resounding pride – but it didn't help him work out what was going on here.

With a flash of determination, he decided that he wasn't going to let this go like a good little soldier. He also wasn't going to get anywhere just sitting on his bunk. He brought up his omnitool again and tapped a few commands into it. There – he was lucky, Admiral Anderson was currently located on the Citadel. His schedule was private, of course, but Nathan knew where his office was.

He would go and ask the Admiral to explain. In person.

* * *

Standing in the foyer of the Admiral's office, he was already starting to think this was a bad idea. A bad, bad idea. Who in their right mind came storming into an Admiral's office – an _Admiral's _office – and demanded to speak with them? Especially when that someone held the comparatively lowly rank of Lieutenant? This was insane.

Perhaps he was still drunk. Somehow, after last night, the alcohol had just never left his system. He had to be totally, blind drunk.

He almost turned around and left. But… he had to know. Drunk or not. He had earned that spot on the N training course and he wasn't about to give it up easily.

Gathering what little of his courage remained, he presented himself at the Admiral's assistant's desk. From his Asian colouring, he guessed this was probably the Second Lieutenant Jin who had forwarded him his new orders. Jin stood at the sight of the Lieutenant's rank pins and saluted. "Sir."

Nathan returned the salute. "Second Lieutenant Jin?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'd like to see the Admiral." Nathan kept his tone pleasant, but couldn't prevent some of the tension he felt from leaking into his voice.

Jin didn't appear to notice as he took his seat and brought up his terminal's interface. "Of course, sir, let me just locate the next available appointment."

Nathan shook his head. "No, I would really like to see him now," he replied personably, tone light and almost deferential. "If it's at all possible. My business is very urgent."

He received a tired glance in return. _You and everyone else,_ Jin's expression clearly said. So much for his best efforts at diplomacy. "I'm sorry, sir, but the Admiral is not available at such short notice. I can try—"

With a swish of electronics, the door to the Admiral's office abruptly slid open and the Admiral himself emerged. Without letting himself stop to think, Nathan took his chance. He side-stepped over into the Admiral's path and snapped a perfect, parade-ground salute, back rigid, eyes forward. "Sir!"

Anderson pulled up short, and Nathan suppressed a cringe at the look on his face – a combination of surprise and… was that recognition?

Yep, this was a bad idea. He must still be drunk. But he was here now, and there was nothing for it but to follow through. He held his stiff posture and waited for the Admiral to respond, hoping he wouldn't just keep walking.

With a resigned sigh, Anderson stopped. He returned the salute. "At ease, soldier. Lieutenant Briggs, I presume?"

Nathan's eyes widened slightly in surprise. _He _did_ recognise me… he knows who I am?_ "Yes sir. May I have a moment of your time sir?"

"I thought you might turn up here. Come on, Briggs." He spun and headed back towards his office.

Nathan wasn't sure he had heard correctly, but the body language was clear. He had caught a break. He wasn't about to look this surprising gift horse in the mouth. He hurried after the Admiral.

Once they were both inside his office, Admiral Anderson slapped the door panel and it slid shut behind them. "I think I can guess why you're here, Lieutenant," he said conversationally as he made his way over to his desk. Instead of taking a seat behind it, he leant against the front and folded his arms.

The Admiral certainly didn't appear to be as angry as he should be at the sudden intrusion of an uninvited subordinate. "Sir?" he asked, not quite sure if he was supposed to respond or not.

"You received your new orders, and want to know why you're being pulled out of N school. Is that about right?"

He bristled a bit at the Admiral's seeming lack of appreciation of the gravity of the situation, but forced it down.

This was very strange. Although the Admiral would no doubt have approved the orders, surely he would only have dealt with such a low level assignment in the most abstract sense. Even if the soldier involved had just been approved for N training. There was no reason for him to get involved personally, and yet… he seemed to be quite familiar with the situation.

Nathan took a moment to respond, realising he was on uncertain ground. He chose his words carefully. "Yes, sir, that's why I'm here. I'm not questioning your orders, sir, but I was hoping I could request… an explanation. I'm… not sure I understand your reasoning, sir," he finished.

Instead of responding directly, Anderson studied him with a calculating stare. Nathan felt distinctly as though he was being evaluated. He regretted how quickly he had run that brush through his hair, now, but let his chin rise just slightly under the heavy gaze. "You've had quite the career so far, Lieutenant Briggs. I've been following your progress after the incident on Medena. Your ratio has been nothing short of remarkable."

_Medena. _Now there was a good memory. Ignoring the slight swell of pride he felt, he withheld comment. "Ratio, sir?" Nathan hadn't heard the term before.

"Shorthand, son. It refers to the number of successful missions you've completed, compared to the… losses you've suffered. Your ratio is excellent. Thirty seven missions since you were given command of your current team, with zero losses. Impressive."

Nathan stood a little straighter. "Thank you, sir."

"Not many squad leaders can boast the same thing, Lieutenant. You should be proud. Your ratio is one of the reasons I chose you for this assignment. It will be… rather unique, and I need someone with a good record, with some solid experience under his belt. I don't blame you for feeling overqualified, and I _am _sorry I needed to cancel your IC training. I know how much of a big deal that is. Hell, I've done it myself, I'm well aware. But," Anderson took a breath. "This is more important."

Nathan stayed silent, intrigued, despite himself.

Without further explanation, the Admiral used his omnitool to bring a vidscreen on the wall of his office to life. He queued up a clip and set it to play.

Nathan recognised it instantly. After all, it had played almost nonstop on all news channels for at least a week after it happened.

An image appeared on the screen, distant but suspiciously clear for one supposedly obtained from a member of the public's omnitool. He wouldn't be surprised at all if it turned out the "concerned member of the public" was an Alliance public relations officer. It showed a frigate at dock, a long, sleek, curving hull with the word '_Normandy'_ painted on its flank. Nathan recognised the familiar shape of the building as the Vancouver Central Spaceport, the military wing. A light snow was falling, dusting the _Normandy_ with a heavy cloak of white.

"…_breaking news. Our sources advise that an arrest has been made in relation to the sudden and tragic destruction of the Bahak system's mass relay and the associated devastating loss of life,"_ the voiceover faded in. _"Commander Shepard, Saviour of the Citadel, Hero of the Alliance and recipient of the Star of Terra, has claimed responsibility and turned herself in to Alliance authorities."_

A hatch slid open in the side of the _Normandy_ and three distant figures, viewed from above, exited. Two clearly flanked the other, gripping the arms of the person in the middle. Although it was impossible to see from the distance at which the recording had been taken, the person in the middle had to be Commander Shepard. A hooded regulation weather jacket covered her and her hands appeared to be clasped – or cuffed – before her. As the recording progressed, the three of them descended from the _Normandy _and headed down the ramp into the building.

They disappeared, and the image changed to a view of the ANN news anchor. She appeared a little uncertain as she looked up from her own vidscreen toward the camera, cocking her head to one side for a moment as she listened to her earpiece. "_Uh… and we now have further confirmation that these reports are correct,"_ she announced, sounding more than a little confused. Nathan couldn't blame her. _"Commander Shepard will be stripped of her rank and command and held in custody, awaiting trial for her involvement in what happened in Bahak—"_

The recording paused with the anchor staring at the camera, mouth opened slightly, mid-speech, eyes wide in surprise.

Nathan kept his mouth firmly shut, carefully refraining from glaring at the screen. Commander Shepard. Now it was starting to make sense. Of course they needed someone with a bit more field experience than the average MP to act as guard to one of the most capable soldiers in the galaxy. And of course, someone with a bit higher rank than average, to match her status – even though said status had been just a _little_ tarnished after she had freely admitted to being a mass murderer. It made perfect sense, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

Perhaps he was being selfish, or petty, but he was supposed to be heading off to _N school_. How did guard duty, even if it was for the most famous soldier in the galaxy, compare to that? Something he had worked his whole life for? Something he had, quite literally, spent his whole life training for. Once he had graduated from N school he would start to be assigned the more important, more critical missions; missions that sent him to the furthest reaches of the known universe, the most dangerous theatres of battle. He would be responsible for saving lives, protecting Alliance interests, at the most critical points.

How could… _guard duty…_ possibly compare to that?

Thankfully, Anderson appeared to be oblivious to his barely concealed anger. "The Alliance must… display a front to the rest of the universe. We must appear to be holding the Commander to account for her actions," he began to explain.

Nathan's eyes narrowed, and this time he couldn't suppress his anger. "_Appear_ to be?" he repeated, voice rising. "She murdered three hundred thousand Batarians! Civilians! She destroyed a mass relay! We should be locking her up and throwing away the key!"

The Admiral's eyebrows rose at this display. "And before that, she _saved_ millions of lives, Lieutenant!" he shot back.

Nathan chuckled mirthlessly. "So it all works out in terms of her ratio then, does it? What's three hundred thousand compared to millions?"

Abruptly the Admiral seemed to deflate. He slapped a key on his omnitool and the vidscreen faded to black, then turned and moved over to his chair. He didn't sit, but took ahold of the back as if for support.

As Nathan watched, still seething, the Admiral seemed to be considering something. His head was bowed, and he opened his mouth as if to start speaking, then stopped. Finally he straightened, and his jaw was set. "It was… necessary."

"_Necessary_—" Nathan began, but stopped abruptly as the Admiral held up his hand.

"That's enough, Lieutenant. The Alliance's actions regarding Commander Shepard are above your pay grade," he snapped.

Nathan snapped to attention, knowing an order when he heard one. "Sir, yes, sir!"

"You will report to the SSV _Nimbus_ at 1300 hours today. You will perform this assignment to the best of your ability, and you will show Commander Shepard the respect she deserves." The Admiral studied him carefully, then appeared to soften, just slightly, as if in understanding. "If you do a good job, son, you'll receive a recommendation from me to take with you to the villa. Understood?"

"Yes sir." He saluted. He knew a dismissal when he heard it too.

The Admiral returned the salute. Nathan spun on his heel and headed for the office door. As he left, he could have sworn the Admiral whispered something he was not intended to hear. It sounded suspiciously like, "_Good luck."_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"…and the mess is down that corridor to the right," explained the young private.

Later this morning Nathan would be relieving the private of the responsibility for guarding Commander Shepard.

When he had arrived the previous day he had been swiftly allocated his own quarters off base by a polite but detached housing officer, then told to report for duty at 0700 the following morning. Ever the good soldier, and despite the fact that he very much did not want to be reporting for this particular duty, Nathan had arrived precisely on time. He had been introduced to Private Roberts, who had been Shepard's day guard for all of three weeks. The Private practically reeked of enthusiasm and naivete, and while that combination could have been beyond irritating, Nathan had so far found it to be annoyingly endearing. If Roberts was disappointed at being relieved of duty, he didn't let on. He simply greeted his replacement warmly, and offered to take him on a tour of the Alliance compound. All in all, he was making it very difficult for Nathan to maintain his bad mood.

Roberts lead him down a flight of stairs and around a corner, then stopped before a door labelled 'Detention Centre'. The indicator on the door was a solid red. "Your omnitool should be keyed to let you through here, sir, but it might be worth testing it just in case," Roberts suggested, gesturing to the panel.

Nathan passed his left wrist over the sensor, and was rewarded with a cheerful beep. The door slid open. "Looks good," he commented.

"Mine didn't work for three days," Roberts muttered, shooting a long-suffering glance at Nathan. "Follow me, sir, and I'll introduce you to the Commander."

He headed off down the corridor, and Nathan followed a couple of steps behind. He felt a slight touch of nerves, but that just annoyed him. He set his jaw and carefully schooled his face into a mask of professionalism. He didn't like this. Not at all. Commander Shepard was probably one of the last people in the galaxy he wanted to meet, let alone spend full days in the company of. But he had his orders and he would follow them despite his personal feelings on the matter.

"She's not allowed to have any visitors, unless they have proper authorisation," Roberts explained as they walked. "No extranet access either, and only limited intranet access. So… she usually likes to chat." He stopped outside a closed door at the end of the corridor, another red indicator light. This one was marked '01'. Roberts noticed him looking at the markings and grinned. Nathan detected a hint of pride in his expression. "She gets the best one, sir. Of course. Wait til you see it. Here, try your omnitool again."

The Private sounded almost like he was trying to sell him an apartment. Nathan waved his wrist before the sensor and the door swished open.

The room was _huge_. The area nearest the door held a small two-seater lounge and a vidscreen, as well as a couple of bookcases filled with datapads and old paper books. Past that was a small round table and a couple of chairs, and on the other side of the room stood a treadmill. At the far end of the room, off to one side, was a large bed draped in clean white sheets. A bathroom alcove stood nearby. And beyond that, the entire far wall was one big window.

With an effort, Nathan maintained his mask of professionalism. He had seen officer quarters that weren't as nice as this. This was supposed to be the brig?

As they entered, the woman who had to be Commander Shepard looked up from her seat on the couch. She set the datapad she had been holding down beside her and stood.

Nathan blinked. He had seen images of her everywhere, on the news, in recruitment ads, in the tabloids, but they always pictured her in full N7 armour or decked out in Alliance dress uniform receiving some medal or other. In person she was so… small. Of course, from his lofty six foot two height, most humans were shorter than he was. But he was not expecting the Great Commander Shepard to be just slightly shorter than the average human woman – a good head shorter than him.

And she was so… soft-looking. She was supposed to have a masterful commanding presence, a steely resolve, and the ability to inspire her team to complete tasks that would be considered impossible by anyone else. But this Shepard, standing at relaxed parade rest and dressed comfortably in a light blue regulation t-shirt and fatigues, displayed no hint of any of that.

The lines of her face were gentle and full, cheekbones high but not prominent, mouth and jaw just a little wider than was currently considered attractive. There was a dusting of light freckles across her nose and cheeks. She looked to be in very good shape, but her shoulders and arms, though lean, did not appear to be heavily muscled. Her hair was a thick, wavy combination of vibrant browns with the occasional dark red or golden highlight, and it was pulled back into a very loose tail that hung lazily over one shoulder, just touching the top of her breastbone. Her eyes, a brilliant blue a shade lighter than her uniform, appeared tired. She even had dark circles.

She was beautiful, despite the dark circles… but not quite the Great Commander Shepard he was expecting. She looked… painfully human.

He had to admit, he was a little disappointed.

Roberts snapped to attention and saluted smartly. "Commander Shepard."

She smiled, a wry smile, one corner of her mouth turning up slightly. "Roberts, you know you're not supposed to call me that anymore," she chastised. "And you're definitely not supposed to salute me." Her voice was strong, calm, with vaguely melodic undertones.

Roberts dropped his hand, looking a little sheepish. "I know, Comm—er, Shep… Shepard. Ma'am. I'm sorry, I can't help it."

"Don't worry about it," she reassured him, shifting her attention to Nathan. She looked him over, head to toe, and he almost fidgeted. Soft though her features might be, her gaze was sharp.

Roberts jumped in. "Ma'am, this is Lieutenant Nathan Briggs. He's relieving me."

"Lieutenant Briggs, good to meet you," she said, extending a hand. He took it and shook. Her hands were small, but she had a firm grip.

"You too, ma'am," he replied.

"You sure lucked out with this detail, Lieutenant," she commented drily.

He met her eyes sharply. Did she know about the circumstances surrounding his being transferred here, or was she just making small talk? "I don't see it that way, ma'am," he lied smoothly.

Her eyes lingered on his for a moment, then returned to Roberts. "So, where are they shipping you off to next, Roberts?" she asked.

The young private appeared _thrilled_ that she cared, if his posture and grin were anything to go by. Nathan barely resisted rolling his eyes. "I've been assigned to the SSV _Juror_, ma'am. I ship out tomorrow."

She nodded. "The _Juror_… that's a good ship. Captain al Mabadhi has a good head on her shoulders. You'll do fine."

Roberts beamed. "Thank you, Comm—ma'am!"

She took his hand in hers and shook. "It's been a pleasure, Roberts. I'd like to have a quick chat with Lieutenant Briggs here, if you don't mind."

"No ma'am!" he replied. "Lieutenant." He practically bounced from the room, completely forgetting that even though Shepard technically had no rank as a prisoner, Nathan certainly did, and he had broken protocol by leaving without waiting for a dismissal. Nathan let it go. The kid was clearly starstruck.

* * *

Shepard watched the private leave, feeling a pang of regret. She was going to miss that kid. He was young and naïve and more than a little taken in by the whole 'hero' thing the Alliance had built up around her, but his enthusiasm made up for that. She had enjoyed their regular morning chats.

She turned her attention back to the tall, rigidly silent Lieutenant standing in front of her. She doubted those would continue with him. Not if the bald-faced lie he had given her when she remarked on his getting stuck with this duty was anything to go by.

She wondered what had made him so angry. It was barely concealed beneath a façade of outgoing professionalism and control; he obviously thought he was doing a good job of hiding it. But as soon as he had entered the room, she could feel the waves of hostility emanating from his general direction. Outwardly he appeared calm but his eyes gave it away, brown irises flashing, lids just slightly narrowed. His face was carefully neutral, but there was a touch of tension in his jaw, a thinning of his lips, chin raised a little higher than it otherwise should have been.

_Was _she_ the reason for his anger, rather than just the assignment?_ The idea was an interesting one, and it gave her pause. She had been treated with various degrees of respect since she had arrived in Vancouver, but rarely outward hostility… no matter how much she privately thought she deserved it after what had happened on Aratoht. She was well aware of the spin the Alliance would need to put on that. They would have to blame her completely, of course, show that she was being punished and would be put on trial for her crimes, because they absolutely could not afford a war with the Batarians. So a hostile reaction was certainly not out of the question, if all this Briggs knew was the public version of events.

Still, it would make things very unpleasant if he was going to continue with this hostility the whole time he was assigned to her.

"Have a seat, Lieutenant," she offered, indicating one of the chairs at her small table.

"I'm fine, ma'am," he replied, eyes straight ahead.

She shrugged, and took one of the seats for herself, crossing her legs and resting her hands comfortably in her lap. "Where are you from?" she asked.

"Here, ma'am. Vancouver."

She nodded. "It's beautiful here. So much greenery. I would have liked to grow up somewhere similar myself. It must have been nice."

The muscles of his jaw worked beneath his skin. "Yes ma'am, it was." His reply was short, almost curt.

Had she hit a nerve there? It seemed so. It was useful to know, but her goal wasn't to push his buttons, so she let it go. "I was a Navy brat, myself. My home was on whatever ship or station my mother and father were assigned to at the time. I used to drive the crew nuts, running up and down the corridors, getting in the way. It was fun, but sometimes I wished I had a park to play in or a tree to climb."

He glanced at her, eyes softening just for a moment. "Your parents never took you to Earth for shore leave?" he asked.

"I didn't see Earth until I was fourteen, and I was a bit beyond parks and trees by then."

"I'm sorry, ma'am."

"I didn't know any different, Briggs, so it didn't bother me. One of the stations I was on for a while had some very entertaining catwalks in the maintenance section. I made do." She smiled, and just for a moment, she thought he would too. But then, as if remembering where he was (_or_ _who he was talking to?_), a dark shadow crossed his face once more.

"That's good, ma'am."

_Tough nut to crack._

She allowed her smile to fade. She had plenty of time to work out what his problem was, she didn't need to push it. It was time to give him an out. She stood, and walked over to stand before him again. "Well, it was very nice to meet you, Lieutenant. I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of one another."

He took the out. "Yes ma'am." Nodding sharply, he spun on his heel and left the room. The door swished shut behind him and the locking mechanism engaged with a click.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Early update. Happy Friday!_

_Also, I now have a wonderful, incredibly talented beta who saved me from some glaring errors in this chapter. Thank you Katherinosaurus! Check out her stories if you haven't already, they're some of my favourites._

* * *

**Chapter Three**

Shepard woke early. She drifted awake slowly, lying flat on her bed, and watched as the darkened room came into focus. She stared up at the same stark white ceiling she had seen every morning for the past month, trying to ignore the headache starting to needle her brain, just behind her forehead. She pressed the cool back of her hand to the trouble spot and was rewarded when the pain lessened slightly.

She had been here one month. One month, and still no action from Alliance Command or the Council on the Reapers. She had provided them with images, data and even the vid feed from her suit cam showing the battle against the human Reaper in the Collector base, and still she heard nothing. They had barely even spoken to her about it. Admiral Hackett had forced them to at least appear to accept the evidence for later review, but so far that review hadn't materialised. She doubted they had looked at it at all. But the worst thing was that if the situation wasn't so desperately dire she couldn't blame them for that.

From both bodies' points of view – and she struggled _hard_ to see it that way, since she had been right in the middle of it all – after she had stopped Saren and Sovereign from destroying the Citadel, she had died tragically on a routine geth clean-up run. They had proof of her death, irrevocable proof. A full state memorial had been held. Her 'heroic deeds' had been written into the history books, and they gained a martyr.

Then, two years later, just when they would have thought everything was getting back to normal, rumours had started to emerge. Rumours that she was somehow back from the dead, and waging her own private war against the Collectors with the backing of Cerberus. _Cerberus_, of all things. The Systems Alliance's greatest hero working for a humanist terrorist group. The political repercussions of that must have been a nightmare to deal with.

After destroying the Collector base, she hadn't thrown herself skipping and cheering back into the arms of the Alliance or the Council, either. At the time she had wanted to be cautious. She wanted to try and balance the need to push them to accept the fact that they needed to prepare for the inevitable and imminent return of the Reapers with the fact that as far as they were concerned, she was all but a traitor and possibly not even the real Commander Shepard.

To head _that_ idea off, she had allowed them to run endless tests, checking DNA, mental patterns, everything the best doctors in the Alliance could think of. Eventually they had seemed to accept that she was in fact the real thing, and had started sending missions her way again. She had tackled them diligently, making a show of representing the Alliance or the Council, whoever's assignment it was, in an effort to build back their trust. It had even started working. Those horrible recruitment ads had started popping up again.

And then, one month – thirty two days – ago, she had been sent on a simple in-and-out rescue mission by Admiral Hackett and had instead hurled an asteroid into a mass relay. Killing three hundred thousand innocent colonists.

Her stomach still clenched at the memory. She had tried to warn them, but it had been too late.

Her head throbbed. Rolling over, she sat up and took a sip of water from the glass at her bedside. It was a very sturdy glass, having been moulded from a tough variant on plastic, and like everything else in her room, it was impossible to break or use as a weapon. Another little reminder that she was being treated very, very well, but she was still confined to the brig.

And again, if the situation wasn't already beyond drastic, she would be perfectly happy with that. If she didn't know the Reapers were going to come creeping out of the dark reaches of space any day now, she would gladly spend the rest of her life behind bars. _Actual_ bars, not this spacious, airy excuse for a prison cell. After all, she had murdered three hundred thousand batarians.

_Three hundred thousand people_.

That headache was really starting to pound, but she had no access to painkillers in here. She headed for the small bathroom alcove, shed her clothing and stepped into a warm shower, hoping the relaxing flow of water would reduce it somewhat. If it didn't, she would have to ask Lieutenant Briggs to get her some medication.

She snorted as the warm water ran over her shoulders. That would be interesting. From the looks he threw at her when he brought her meals every day, she wouldn't be surprised if he just flat-out refused.

Technically he would be within his rights to do so, too, which infuriated her. The lack of control over her own life while stuck in this room was… _maddening_. Of course, she could request to see a doctor – he would not be permitted to refuse that – but she still wanted to get to the bottom of his hostility toward her and that would be circumventing him, which would only annoy him more. After all, if she couldn't spend her time convincing the governments of the galaxy of the Reaper threat, she had to occupy herself somehow.

She slapped the sensor and the water cut off. Wrapping one towel around herself and one around her hair, she caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror. Grimacing, she laid gentle fingers on the bags under her eyes. She hadn't been sleeping well ever since the suicide mission to the Collector base. Even though by some completely bewildering miracle she had managed to pull her entire crew out of that alive, the images of melting people and giant human reapers haunted her dreams. The events at the Bahak system had just made it worse, and now that she couldn't sleep with the comforting presence of her pistol beneath her pillow, every tiny noise seemed to wake her up. At best she was getting maybe three to four hours of sleep each night. She couldn't keep going like this, and yet she couldn't see a different way forward.

_If Command would just see what was right in front of their goddamn noses…_

She had to stop going over it and over it again and again or it would drive her crazy. She needed a distraction. The shower had muted the headache somewhat; enough for her to exercise at least.

She dressed quickly in shorts and one of her black N7 t-shirts, then gave her hair a quick dry with the towel and pulled it up into a messy but secure bun at the back of her head. She hopped on the treadmill and started running.

* * *

Nathan was beginning to adjust to the everyday routine of the detention centre. In the main prison area, which was set in a different wing to the wing where Shepard was being held, the day began at 0700 sharp every morning. Lights were switched on, cells opened and meals were served in the mess halls.

The prisoners were all minimum security, and all below the rank of Lieutenant. The maximum security prisoners were kept at a different, off-site facility, and the more senior officers in a separate, much smaller wing. There was only one senior officer being held at the moment, so Commander Shepard had the whole wing to herself. Regardless, in the VIP wing the prisoners were given many privileges over the rank and file.

For starters, they could set their own timetable, to a certain extent. Nathan had been told to bring meals to the Commander at 0900, 1300 and 1800 every day, but other than that, she could set her own hours. Technically she was not permitted to have any visitors, but in practice anyone who wanted to visit simply required orders from a high enough authority to do so. On top of this, she was allowed to spend an hour each day on a beautiful terrace lined with benches and gardens whenever she wished. Sometimes Nathan wasn't sure if he was guarding a prisoner in a detention centre or waiting on a guest in a bed 'n' breakfast.

Shepard followed a similar routine each day. She would always be awake when he brought her breakfast, sitting at the table or on the couch reading something. She seemed to get up early – he often heard her moving around before that. Lunch would find her at the window, and at dinner she would be reading again, or working at something on one of the myriad datapads she had stored in there. She would always make sure to take advantage of her hour of terrace time, usually going out some time in the afternoon when the terrace would be bathed in sunlight, and there she would either read some more or just stare off into the distance. She had tried to start conversations with him a few times, but he always politely avoided her questions.

Today, however, was different.

He had collected her breakfast tray from the mess hall as he always did just before 0900, and brought it to her door. Balancing it in one hand, he waved his wrist at the sensor and the door slid open.

Shepard was on the treadmill, not the couch or at the table. The shrill high-pitched whir of the servomotor filled the room. She was running hard, just short of sprinting, and looked as though she had been running for quite some time. Sweat had soaked through her t-shirt, and small droplets ran down the side of her face. Her bun had come partially loose and thick strands now stuck to her neck. Her eyes were fixed on the treadmill's terminal. She didn't seem to notice that he had entered the room.

"Ma'am?" he called, carefully placing the tray on the table. She didn't respond, only kept running, eyes on the treadmill's display. The door was quiet, and the treadmill was quite loud – perhaps she was simply too focused and hadn't heard him enter.

Annoyed that he couldn't just drop off the tray and leave like he normally did, he approached her, carefully keeping his right hip, where his gun was holstered, turned away. He highly doubted this was anything quite as dramatic as an escape attempt, but training was training.

Standing to one side of the treadmill, he tried again, louder. "Shepard?"

This time it worked. Her eyes darted over to him and her shoulders visibly twitched, startled. Abruptly her stride broke, throwing her off balance. Nathan immediately saw what was going to happen and darted a hand out, grabbing her upper arm in a tight grip before she could fly off the back of the treadmill.

She stumbled to a halt, planting her feet on either side of the moving platform. "Shit," she breathed, leaning over with her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath.

He let her go and took a step back. "Uh, are you okay ma'am?" he asked cautiously.

She looked up at him, as if shocked to see him standing there. "Shit," she swore again, rubbing her arm, and to his surprise a slow grin began to spread across her face. She started to laugh.

To his chagrin, he couldn't stop the hint of an uncertain smile from playing across his own lips. He had never seen her laugh before. He had barely even seen her smile. Maybe once? It was… irritatingly infectious.

Still laughing, and trying to breathe, she straightened and put her hands on her hips. "Briggs, if you ever tell anyone about this…" she threatened.

He raised his hands in surrender, unable to fight a grudging smile any longer. "No ma'am. If it ever got out that the great Commander Shepard was defeated by a treadmill, I don't want to know what would happen to the galaxy's morale."

She grinned, cocked a hip and eyed him shrewdly. "So, Lieutenant Briggs has a sense of humour. Good to know."

His traitorous eyes flitted downwards all of a sudden, taking in the soft curve of her waist and the taut muscles of her bare thighs.

Startled, he tore his gaze away from her, finding a point just over her left shoulder to focus on. _What the hell?_

_Are you really standing here cracking jokes with the woman who killed three hundred thousand people and was responsible for getting you kicked out of N school? Did you really just _check her out?

Suddenly he felt a little sick to the stomach. "If you're not injured, ma'am…?" he forced out, taking a step towards the door.

A flash of… _was that hurt_...? crossed her face, before quickly shifting to blank neutrality. She stepped off the treadmill, shutting it off, and turning her back to him. "I'm fine, Lieutenant," she replied with a sigh.

"Ma'am," he said quickly. He retreated, slipping out the door and listening out for the telltale click of the locking mechanism before taking a breath. He slowly took up his usual position, standing at rest just to the right of her door, as he tried to sort out the thoughts tumbling though his head. Finally, one popped up to the forefront of his mind.

_What business did she have being so… human?_

The thought was almost like a betrayal. The legendary Commander Shepard was just that – a legend, a story, a rallying cry against all who would oppose peace and freedom in the galaxy. She accomplished the impossible, made heavy decisions without batting an eye, and never gave up one inch of ground to her enemies. She was an inspiring ideal for young Alliance soldiers, and a beacon of hope to everyone else.

She didn't… fall off treadmills, or get her feelings hurt when she was snubbed. She was supposed to be… bigger than that. Better than that. She was a theory, an ideal. Not an actual, living, breathing, feeling _person_.

It had been easy to hate her when she was a theory. When she had betrayed her own reputation by taking out the alpha relay it had proved the theory wrong. It was easy to resent her solely for shattering the dream so many people in the galaxy had bought into, never mind committing what amounted to mass murder. But now…? If she could be hurt by such a tiny snub, could she… did she… feel remorse too? In their talk back on the Citadel, Admiral Anderson had hinted at something like that. He had claimed her actions were necessary, but hadn't elaborated further.

He found himself wanting to know. He wasn't quite sure why, as he hadn't been one of those to fall at the metaphorical feet of the Commander when Alliance PR had first started using her as a figurehead. He had respected her accomplishments back then, and cheered with everyone else when he found out she had thwarted a geth attack on the Citadel, but hadn't really paid too much attention as he had been on a tour out in the far reaches of the galaxy at the time. He had heard she was killed in action a few months later, and remembered participating in a minute's silence with his squad – mostly for their benefit – then getting blind drunk afterward. After that she had faded almost completely from his awareness until rumours that she had been undercover, not dead, began to surface and stories about the Bahak system first started getting airtime.

Now that he had actually met the legend and found an almost painfully normal human woman in its place, he wanted to know more. Why would a woman, clearly of sound mind, risk her own life to save millions of people only to go and callously end the lives of hundreds of thousands a couple of years down the track? Had something happened to her while she was undercover? Or doing whatever it was she was doing during those two years she was supposedly dead? Something that wasn't public knowledge?

Surreptitiously, aware of the cameras in the area and the regulations against taking his attention away from his duty, he opened his omnitool to the extranet and did a search for more information on the subject.

After a few minutes, he gave up. There was plenty on there about Shepard's early career, commendations and service, as well as numerous highly questionable 'fan sites', but precious little about her incarceration and nothing on whether she had offered any reason for her actions.

He closed his omnitool. He would have to ask her, then. Just as soon as he could figure out how to go about that.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Apologies for the late update, I had to iron out some problems my lovely beta Katherinosaurus caught just in time. The chapter is a little longer than usual as a result! Any remaining errors are wholly mine._

* * *

**Chapter Four**

Shepard was aware that she had been sitting in the same spot for nearly the whole afternoon, but she couldn't work up the willpower to do anything else. She kept telling herself that after the next news segment finished playing she would get up and go for a run on the treadmill, or read one of those old trashy novels she had been inexplicably provided with, but she never actually got around to it. She stayed awkwardly curled up at the end of the couch, leaning her head on one hand as she turned the new information over and over in her mind.

Earlier in the day she had decided to finally switch on the vidscreen she had been provided with. ANN24 was the only vid channel she had been given access to. She didn't usually put much stock in news programmes designed for public consumption but she was starting to feel a bit starved for information. Her limited extranet access provided her with a trickle, but as a rule it was based on what the general public might find interesting and what might generate views for the site in question more than what actually constituted important news. She wasn't expecting to find in-depth situation reports from ANN but she had hoped a twenty-four hour news channel might at least have a bit more variety.

She hadn't been disappointed in that sense. Along with the human-centric news she expected from an Alliance news channel, there were various mildly interesting reports from asari, turian and salarian space relating to trade and politics. There were also numerous brief pieces ranging from human interest stories to celebrity gossip. Coming under the former category was a piece on the multiculturalism of the Citadel and how it had evolved over time and influenced Citadel culture. It was noted offhand that of late, quarians on pilgrimage had been noticeable in their absence.

That had jumped out at her. Shepard had learned from Tali that the pilgrimage was a permanent fixture in quarian culture, had been for quite some time, and was unlikely to ever be stopped for any reason. As the hub of galactic trade and commerce, many young quarians chose the Citadel as their destination, just as Tali had. This had continued after the defeat of Saren, despite the reduction in the Citadel's perceived safety. The fact that the flow of pilgrimages to the Citadel had slowed or stopped was worrying as it likely meant the flow of pilgrimages everywhere else had stopped too.

If pilgrimages were being put on hold, it could only mean that young quarians were being required to stay with the fleet. But why?

Shepard could only think of two reasons. Either the quarian admirals had listened to Tali's warnings about the Reapers and were beginning to prepare, or they had finally decided to start a push to take back their homeworld from the geth. As much as she wanted it to be the former, she had to concede that the most likely conclusion was the latter.

It had her worried. Worried, frustrated, and annoyed that she couldn't do anything about it.

She was very concerned about Tali. If the quarians were going to war, Tali would be with them. Legion's presence aboard the _Normandy_ during the last stages of their mission to stop the Collectors had begun to force Tali to question her preconceptions regarding the geth, but after years of enmity she couldn't see her friend choosing the race of synthetics over her own people. Her duty to her people would outweigh her reservations about attacking the geth, Shepard was sure.

But it wasn't just personal concerns weighing her mind down. Sometimes she resented her ability to do so, but the fact was that she couldn't help but consider the possibility of a quarian war against the geth in purely tactical terms as well. Unless great leaps in technology had been made in the past couple of months, the quarians and the geth were more or less evenly matched. A war between the two races would decimate both, which would substantially reduce their ability to fight the Reapers.

Shepard had to contact Tali. She had to know what was going on. She wanted to be sure the younger woman was doing all she could to talk her people into preparing for the Reapers rather than wasting lives and military resources throwing themselves against the geth, but she knew that might not be the case. If it wasn't, Shepard knew she would have to convince her. She couldn't just let it go and blindly trust Tali, the stakes were far too high for that.

But there was no way for her to contact her friend – or anyone, for that matter. Her access to electronic messaging had been completely banned, in or out. Even if it hadn't been, everything that made it through the tight cordon of censorship surrounding her was monitored scrupulously. She had no reason to think any outgoing messages would be treated differently. Any message mentioning Reapers would never see the light of day once it left her hands.

There was nothing she could do, and it was driving her crazy.

She was still curled up at the edge of the couch, watching ANN24, when Nathan brought her evening meal. She nodded to him in greeting and received a quick "ma'am" in return, then returned her attention to the vidscreen and her frustration. She barely noticed him lay the tray down on her dining table or head back towards the door, but before he made it across the room he stopped, turned around to face her and folded his arms across his chest.

"Shepard. What's the matter?" he asked grudgingly.

She looked up at him in surprise, more from the fact that he had asked that question than that he had noticed something was up. "Huh?"

He waved an arm in her general direction. "You're brooding. You've got the same expression on your face as when you fell off the treadmill the other day. I can't leave you here alone if you're going to fall off the bloody couch or something."

"Fall off the-" She raised her head and sat up, glaring at him. "I'm not going to—I didn't just _fall _off the treadmill, you startled me!"

He smirked. "Sure, keep telling yourself that. Now spill. What's wrong?"

She frowned. She really didn't want to have this conversation with him. It made her tired just thinking about it. "Nothing's wrong," she replied, keeping her voice level with an effort and avoiding looking at him. She stood up and moved around the back of the couch then set to work unwrapping her dinner. "I was just thinking."

"About what?" he persisted.

Her temper flared. _Really?_ After all the work he had been putting in to keeping his distance from her, nowhe wanted to know what she was thinking? She wasn't in the mood for this. "Back off, Lieutenant," she warned him, looking up from her dinner prep and meeting his eyes with a glare.

He shrugged, and his own annoyance was plain. "Yes, ma'am," he said a little too fervently, then sighed and rolled his eyes. "Look, I'm not trying to be an asshole. It's my job to look out for your… mental state. I have to tell your doctor about this."

She grit her teeth and felt her glare intensify. They were all treating her like a goddamn _child. _Nathan shrugged again and turned to leave.

Abruptly, as she watched the only person she could talk to walk out, she deflated. She was letting her frustration get the better of her. He was just doing his job. He had even tried to make her laugh, which had to have taken some effort on his part.

"Wait," she called.

Reluctantly, she explained her fear that the quarians were preparing to start a war. She left out any mention of Reapers, but told him how worried she was for Tali and how devastating such a war would be for the quarians. Aware that he probably only knew the Council-approved version of Sovereign's attack on the Citadel – the one that claimed Sovereign was a geth ship – she also left out any mention of her worries for the geth.

To her mild surprise, she noted something akin to sympathy in his expression as he listened. It wasn't quite pity, which she was grateful for, although she knew she was probably highly pitiable in her current situation. He did seem to be making an effort to lose the hostility she had first sensed from him, though.

"I really want to talk to Tali," she finished. "I'm… not used to being out of the loop. I can't do anything in here."

He nodded. "I understand," he said quietly. "But I can't get any messages out for you."

She shook her head and sighed. "I wasn't asking."

He studied her for a while. Agitated, she resumed her food prep. Finally, he continued. "I'll try and find out what I can, though. I can't guarantee anything."

Surprised, she looked up at him and felt a warm trickle of gratitude. She hadn't expected that. She hadn't expected any of this, really. The sympathetic ear, or the offer of help. She wasn't quite sure what to make of it, what it meant, but she appreciated it. "Thank you," she replied, and the weight on her shoulders lifted by a feather. He grunted and left her to her dinner.

* * *

A couple of weeks later, Shepard had been staring out the window at the bustling terrace below, watching the office workers go about their lives with something uncomfortably close to envy when her door slid open. Nathan entered, but he wasn't alone. Following close behind was Admiral Anderson.

"Anderson!" she exclaimed, hopping down from her perch at the window and hurrying over to take his offered hand.

Nathan turned to leave, and as he did she caught a hint of a satisfied smile. He locked the door behind himself as he left the room.

"Shepard, it's good to see you," Anderson replied, a warm grin lightening his features as he shook her hand.

She waved him over to the couch with a grin of her own. "What brings you here, sir?" she asked.

"I need a reason to visit a friend?"

She threw him a wry look. "Just in the neighbourhood, were you?"

Anderson sobered. "I wanted to check up on you. You know it, I know it, let's not sugar coat it. How are you holding up in here, Shepard?"

She propped her arm up on the back of the couch and tucked a leg underneath her. "As well as I can, sir," she replied.

"That's not an answer."

She sighed. "I guess not. It's… hard, Anderson. I'm out of the loop. I'm stuck in here and I have no idea what's going on out there."

He nodded. "I understand. Your Lieutenant told me something along those lines as well."

She raised an eyebrow. "My—You mean Nathan? Lieutenant Briggs? My guard? You spoke to him?"

"Of course. He asked me to come and visit you. He didn't tell you?"

She shook her head. _Huh. _

"Something made him think he could get away with telling me that although he knew I was very busy and important, I should make the time to see you. The man can be a bit of a smartass."

An amused smile twisted at her lips. "Yes, he can."

Anderson shifted, mimicking her posture. "How's he working out, anyway?"

Shepard shrugged. "He's fine. He clearly didn't want to be anywhere near me to start with, but I think he's started to get over that now."

"He's doing his job then? I had a quick chat with his CO here and she's happy with his work. Are you?"

She gave him a look. "You want me to give him a performance evaluation?" Anderson returned her look with one of his own and she tossed him a wry grin. "I'm happy with his work, Anderson. I don't think he's too pleased about being here, but he does his job well. You're a case in point. I think he asked you to come here because of a conversation we had the other day."

She explained about her conversation with Nathan, and how she had revealed her worry for Tali and the quarians and her frustration at being stuck in a cell while the galaxy moved on without her. To her never ending gratitude Anderson then sat with her for the next hour, discussing the quarians and the geth and a myriad of other issues she hadn't heard about. She noticed he was tempering what he told her a little, declining to explain some things in full and the like, but she was happy to let it go and take what she could get.

To her great relief, Anderson explained that the quarians had recalled all of their people, but they hadn't moved to initiate any wars just yet. He had been in contact with Tali, in fact, and was confident she was working hard to convince her government of the Reaper threat. When he finished, the feeling that she had to get in contact with Tali as soon as possible had subsided somewhat. She still wanted to speak to her friend, of course, but now she knew that she wasn't in any immediate danger she felt a little better about not being able to do so right away.

When Anderson had told her all he could think of, she felt that weight on her shoulders lift by another couple of feathers. The galaxy hadn't imploded without her. She had allies working towards the same goals she was – Anderson and Admiral Hackett had both continued her efforts to convince the Council and Alliance Command that the Reapers were a threat. Garrus, Tali, Liara and Grunt had all been working on their own governments, and Garrus had even made some headway with his. All was _not _lost. Not yet.

After Anderson left, she revelled in the feeling that although it felt like it sometimes, she wasn't alone in this.

When Nathan arrived with her meal that evening she was waiting. "So, you ordered an Admiral to change his schedule, did you, Briggs?" she teased lightly.

The back of his neck turned a dark rosy colour as she watched. "I didn't _order_ him. I didn't think he would listen at all," he grumbled, clearly embarrassed at being called on his good deed. "Look, it was that or tell your doctor you'd been feeling depressed and get you dragged out to see a shrink. I figured you'd prefer the Admiral." He set her tray down and turned to face her, as if daring her to keep making fun of him.

She felt her posture relax and something in her chest soften a little under that stare. "Briggs, thank you," she said, without a hint of teasing in her voice.

He cleared his throat and glanced at the floor. "You're welcome," he finally replied.

* * *

About three weeks after Admiral Anderson's visit, Nathan arrived for his shift to find a message awaiting him at the central duty station. Shepard was being called to meet with the Defence Committee at 0800 this morning, apparently. It was a little early for a meeting, but she was usually up long before that anyway. He glanced at the chrono. 0658. Just before his shift was due to start. She was probably already up. He would have plenty of time to warn her.

He relieved the night shift guard of his position outside Shepard's door and waited, sinking back onto his heels comfortably and staring down the corridor at nothing in particular. Idly he wondered what the summons was for. Something relating to her trial, no doubt. Perhaps they finally had a hearing date for her.

That would make her happy. Anderson's visit had buoyed her mood somewhat, but he could tell she was still going stir-crazy at being stuck in limbo while she waited. She hadn't opened up again after the conversation that had prompted him to contact Anderson, and he could see the tension lines around her eyes and mouth, the tiny cracks in her calm facade. The dark circles he had noticed under her eyes when he first met her hadn't faded, either – if anything they'd become even more pronounced. He hoped Anderson's visit hadn't just acted as a reminder of what she couldn't have.

He was surprised to find that when he looked at her now he wasn't simply assessing her condition in order to confirm her physical and mental wellbeing as part of his job. He actually _wanted_ her to be well. The hostility he had felt toward her when he first transferred to this position was beginning to fade, and he was even grudgingly starting to appreciate her company. He was cautiously happy about the change, but he still found himself constantly conflicted every time he relaxed his guard enough to joke with her or laugh at one of her wry comments. It didn't show itself too often, but she had a cracker of a dry wit. He was sick of always feeling like he was betraying all those dead Batarians every time he smiled at her.

But the question of her motivations for causing the deaths of said Batarians still needled at him. Her reaction to the possibility of a war between the quarians and the geth had convinced him that she wouldn't have made such a decision lightly, but _why_ had she done it? Did she regret it?

He checked his omnitool's chrono. 0724.

He shuffled a little closer to the door and cocked an ear, straining to listen. He didn't hear anything. He hadn't heard any movement at all so far this morning, in fact, which was unusual. Normally Shepard was awake and moving around in her cell by the time he arrived for his shift. The last thing he wanted to do was barge into her room and wake her up himself, but if he didn't hear something soon he might have to.

0732\. Nothing.

0745\. Still nothing.

Grumbling, he hit the door release and stepped into Shepard's room. The shutters were drawn over the window, leaving the room in darkness. When the door closed behind him, the only light remaining came from his omnitool. In the dim orange glow at first glance the room appeared to be empty. Then his eyes fell on the bed, and an elongated figure beneath the sheets. Inwardly he winced. The fact that she was still sleeping was probably a good thing overall – he knew she needed it – but he still felt keenly that he had intruded on her private space.

Shepard was laying on her side, facing toward him, hair falling messily over one side of her face. One hand had snaked up under her pillow, while the other rested on the edge of the bed. Her shoulders were curled inwards and her legs beneath the sheet were almost gracefully splayed out on the mattress.

He caught his breath as he took a closer look at her face, squinting in the low light. Her expression was anything _but_ relaxed. Her forehead was creased and her eyes were squeezed tightly shut. She was grimacing, and now that he was looking more closely, she appeared deathly still. It almost looked as though she wasn't breathing.

He hurried over quickly, concerned, but stopped himself with at least a couple of metres between himself and the bed. Her shoulders had lifted slightly, almost imperceptibly. She was breathing. Hopefully she was just having a bad dream.

He rubbed his nose. He knew firsthand how violent trained soldiers could be if startled out of a deep sleep. He made sure she had plenty of space, just in case, then hesitantly called, "Shepard?"

Her eyes blinked open and she sucked in a quick gasping breath, disoriented. She did nothing but breathe for a moment, groggy, then focused on him. "Briggs… I… what time is it?" she asked, voice heavy with sleep.

He shifted into something resembling parade rest and studiously lifted his eyes to the wall on the other side of the bed in an attempt to give her a sliver of privacy. "It's almost 0800," he told her. "The Defence Committee would like to see you."

"Oh," she murmured sleepily and pulled herself into a sitting position, running a hand through her hair. Her hair was longer than he had expected – it hung down to her shoulder blades and fell haphazardly over her face. She was wearing a shirt and shorts, both twisted out of place. She couldn't have slept well. It was obviously taking some effort to gather herself. "Thank you. I'll be ready by then," she replied.

He hesitated before leaving, unsure if he wanted to ask the question or not. "Shepard… Are you all right? It looked like you were… dreaming."

_Oh, crap. Ugh. _As soon as he said it, he wanted to take it back. Asking if she was okay was fine, but why did he go and ask her about her _dreams_? Dreams were usually very private. Out of bounds. He opened his mouth to backtrack, but she beat him to it.

"I'm fine, Lieutenant," she snapped, eyes flashing. "You can leave. I'll be ready shortly."

_Fuck_. He had definitely overstepped his bounds. "Yes ma'am," he said quickly, and ducked out of the room.

That look on her face had been disquieting, though. That grimace. What _had_ she been dreaming about? He shouldn't have asked her about it, but…

He shook his head. No. The things she had been through… He probably didn't want to know.

Perhaps she had just inadvertently answered his question about remorse.

After about ten minutes, he heard the muffled slap of a palm on the locked door. He opened it, and she strode out, impatiently waiting for him to lock the door behind her before heading straight for the Committee chambers. She had dressed in full BDU's and her hair was pulled up into a thick tail at the back of her head. He hurried to keep up, at least trying to maintain some semblance of doing his job and escorting her. Luckily in this, his height gave him the advantage, and he was able to catch up quickly.

It didn't end up making a difference though. When they reached the council chambers she was ushered straight in and he was left to wait outside. Resigned, he found an empty bench and sat, leaning his head back against the wall to wait.

* * *

Two hours later Shepard emerged. She did not look happy.

He made to stand as she came over, but she waved him down and sat heavily on the bench beside him. Leaning her head back against the wall, she closed her eyes.

Well, he wasn't going to make the same mistake as he had this morning by opening his idiot mouth. He leaned back and sat with her in silence, slipping back into his role as her guard and starting to watch people a little more carefully.

He saw no threats – he hadn't really expected to – but the hostile expressions on some of their faces as they noticed Shepard made him uncomfortable. Most were polite and either nodded in his direction or completely ignored him and the Commander both, but a few stared quite openly at her. He kept a keen eye on their expressions, witnessing as they started with recognition, then inevitably flitted to either pity or disgust. Sometimes even outright anger.

He wanted to say something a couple of times, but kept his mouth shut. What could he possibly say to defend her? Anything he said would be easily countered by a thorough 'yes, but mass murder!' and the argument would be over before it had even started. Would she even want to be defended? Somehow he doubted it. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"You looked at me like that when you first arrived," came a murmur from beside him.

He glanced over at her sharply. His discomfort must have been more obvious than he thought it had been. Her lids were hooded, but she had been watching. He made to protest, albeit half-heartedly because he knew she was right, but she continued.

"You did. Lots of people do." She shrugged. "It doesn't matter right now."

"You don't care?" he asked, surprise warring with regret over his initial treatment of her and how perceptive of it she had obviously been.

She sat up and leaned her elbows on her thighs, interlacing her fingers and staring at the ground between her boots. "I… don't like it," she admitted. "But when I'm sitting in here instead of out there," she waved a hand in the general direction of the sky, and space beyond, "it doesn't really make a difference what people think of me, does it?"

"I suppose not," he replied quietly, taking note of the bitterness in her voice. He had been right before – Anderson's visit had helped, but she was still keenly feeling her isolation.

Pushing off her thighs, she stood up and looked at him. "I'd like to head out to the terrace for a while."

"Yes ma'am," he replied. The two of them walked together through the halls, and this time she let him keep up with her. They walked through the senior officer detention centre wing and then out through a side door tucked away between two of the cells. The door lead to a narrow hall, and another door. Through that was the terrace.

It was a beautiful place. White stone lined raised garden beds filled with flowers, green grass and even the occasional small tree. Wind rustled through the trees and the grass, a soft, calming sound. He caught the scent of freshly mown grass and something floral on the wind.

Old style wooden park benches were scattered around in various places. Shepard chose one near one of the small trees and close to the edge of the terrace. The balcony overlooked a lake far below, the surface of which shimmered with the reflection of the sun.

Nathan took up a position nearby, beneath the tree. Normally he wouldn't have placed himself quite so close, but he sensed she would appreciate the company today.

When she didn't speak, he decided to fill the silence himself, hoping he wouldn't say the wrong thing this time. "Ma'am, if you don't mind me asking, what happened in there?" he asked carefully.

She sighed, and for a moment he thought he had done it again. But then she replied in a calm, albeit frustrated voice, "They wanted me to go over the evidence with them."

"Go over the evidence? But you turned yourself in, didn't you? You're going to plead guilty? They shouldn't need too much evidence for that."

She looked up at him sharply, and he could see her mind working, evaluating. The sun shining through the leaves of the nearby tree set dappled shadows over her face. She paused for a long time before replying. "Not the evidence against me. There's a… threat out there. One they need to know about. Understand. Start preparing for," she explained reluctantly.

"A threat? What do you mean?" he asked, confused. Was she talking about the Collectors? Sure, they had been a threat for a time, kidnapping whole human colonies and harassing the border. But that had all stopped a few months ago, which kept with the Collectors' established pattern. They would show themselves every few years, then retreat again only to emerge in another few years. There was nothing particularly worrying about that, other than the obvious need to step up patrols and shore up defences in certain areas. Were they back again? Making another push?

Could this perhaps have something to do with the dream he had interrupted this morning? He watched her, hoping she would elaborate.

Shepard held his eyes, studying his reaction. She wasn't sure how much she should tell him – in fact, she had probably already said too much. It was vitally important that the _governments_ of the galaxy know about and understand the Reaper threat, but the last thing she wanted to do was start a panic by allowing it to get out to the general public in an uncontrolled manner. It would only scare people prematurely. They would need to know about it soon, but _too _soon and they would start doing stupid things in the name of trying to save themselves.

Nathan Briggs did not seem like the type to fly off into a panic, though. Nor was he the type to tell all his friends. She had only known him for a short amount of time – and for a lot of that time he had clearly disliked her, even if that had recently changed – but her gut told her he could be trusted. He had a solid, stable presence. He could be flippant at times, but the way he conducted himself in his duty as her personal guard gave her confidence in him. Even now, safely ensconced behind layers of security at Alliance HQ, he had placed himself between her and the door, close to the cover of a raised garden bed and near enough to the balcony that he would be able to see any threats from that direction before they got too close.

And yet… if she told him, it would only put him in the same position she was. Knowing something big was coming, something with the goal of wiping out all intelligent life in the galaxy, but powerless to do anything about it. What was the point of that? Having someone nearby to confide in would be nice, but she couldn't do that to him.

She sat back on the bench with a resigned sigh and gazed out over the balcony at the lake below. After a while, she gave him the only response she could think of. "It's classified, Briggs. I'm sorry."

Nathan let out a huff of laughter and fought the urge to roll his eyes. Of course it was classified. He should have known that was the answer he would get. It was frustrating but there was nothing to do but laugh about it.

He smiled ruefully. "You know, that's the worst thing about holding a conversation with a senior officer," he commented drily. "No matter what you're talking about, something will always turn out to be classified. Even if you're talking about tomorrow's weather report. Suddenly they'll come out with," he switched to his best Admiral Hackett impression, "'_Er, well, I'd like to tell you more about the chance of rain tomorrow but I'm afraid that's highly classified and I'd have to kill you.'_ And boom, there goes the conversation."

Shepard looked a bit shocked for a moment, then suddenly snorted and dissolved into laughter. Surprised, he grinned back. _Did she just snort?_ He hadn't thought it was quite _that _funny but he would take what he could get. Between breaths, she managed to ask, "Was that supposed to be Admiral Hackett?"

"Well, I tell you this only because you can't write me up at the moment, ma'am, but yes, it may have been Admiral Hackett," he confirmed sheepishly.

"God, you sound exactly like him. _Shepard, someone lost a puppy on a remote colony at the ass end of the Terminus systems, go check it out, would you? Hackett out. _That was terrible, Briggs. Terrible. Don't do that again," she mock-chastised, chuckling. "Only, please do."

He burst into laughter. His impression had been bad but hers was a thousand times worse."Your wish is my command, ma'am," he agreed cheerfully.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Another late one, I'm so sorry! This one was not able to be betaed so all errors are mine. As always, constructive criticism is welcomed, as is any other comment you'd like to make. Thank you to those who have favourited and/or followed, every time I see one of those pop up in my inbox it gives me the warm and fuzzies! Thank you again!_

* * *

**Chapter Five**

Shepard had been reading over the latest, heavily redacted for-public-consumption reports coming out of the Terminus systems when the door to her room slid open. Lieutenant Briggs entered, balancing two dinner trays precariously in one hand. She glanced at the chrono – it was right on 1800 hours, exactly when the reliable Lieutenant always brought her dinner. Normally he didn't bring his own as well, though, which peaked her interest.

He carefully set both the trays down on the tiny dining table. "Shepard," he greeted her. With an overdone, clumsy flourish of his arm and a horrible attempt at a deep, formal waiter's voice, he added, "Would you care to join me for dinner?"

She blinked, and a smile twitched at her mouth. Okay, she could play along. "Why Lieutenant Briggs, I thought you'd never ask," she replied, matching his playful tone. She hopped up from her perch at the window, setting the datapad down, and took the chair he held for her with an exaggerated bow.

He took the seat opposite and began unwrapping both their meals, starting with hers in true mock-chivalrous form. She sat back and waited, an amused smile spreading across her lips. He spoke as he worked. "So, how was your day? Did you finish that crossword puzzle? See anything interesting out the window?"

She gave him a withering look. "_My_ day was fine, thanks. How about yours? See anything exciting on the wall across from my door?"

He chuckled. "Ooh, ouch."

Both dinners unwrapped, they tucked in. "I watched a lot of ANN24 today. I heard they're planning on making Blasto 2 next year," Shepard told him around a mouthful of potato. "But the lead actress is holding out for more credits."

"Sweet, I loved that movie. She was good, too, she deserves a larger cut."

Shepard shrugged. "Eh, I don't know. She looked the part but didn't seem to be too great of an actor… Wait, why are we even talking about this?"

"You started it."

"True. Okay. A real question for you. You're clearly not a career MP, so how did you end up here?" she asked, starting on some chicken. That was one surprisingly good point about prison. The food – or at least the food _she _got – was always fresh and always the real thing. It made a nice change from military rations.

She didn't miss his grimace despite how quickly he tried to hide it. "Orders direct from Admiral Anderson, ma'am."

She glanced up at him. "Really? Huh. Explains why he was so interested in your performance." At his sudden look of concern, she continued. "Don't worry. I lied." He rolled his eyes at her and she grinned.

"Anyway, I was due to ship out to N school in a week's time when I received the orders to come here instead," Nathan explained.

Shepard raised her eyebrows and set her fork down. So _that _was why he had been so hostile toward her when he first arrived. Or at least, it had to be one of the reasons. The poor guy had been pulled out of N school to stand in a hallway all day. "I'm sorry, Briggs. That's rough. Really rough," she said. On a whim she reached across the table and touched his arm, just for a second. His skin was warm beneath her fingertips. She pulled her hand back, but his warmth lingered, just for a moment.

He glanced at her hand and smiled bitterly, shaking his head. "You don't need to apologise, it had nothing to do with you," he told her, returning his attention to his food.

She snorted. "I think it had a lot to do with me," she retorted. "Or rather, it had a lot to do with what Anderson thinks I need while I'm in here."

He paused for a moment, eyebrows raised, bitterness replaced by a sly smile as he caught the whiff of a potential joke. "What he thinks you _need, _huh?"

She made a face at him. "I didn't mean- _Briggs_." He waved it off, winking at her before he took another bite of his chicken. She continued, "What I meant was that I think he wanted someone with me that I would feel comfortable talking to. Your field experience probably had something to do with it, as well as the fact that you're a Lieutenant. He probably thought I'd be able to relate to you more easily because you have a bit of experience and some rank."

"Yep, those are the reasons he gave me too. Although, there are a thousand other Lieutenants with field experience he could have sent over here. Why pick one who had just been accepted for ICT?"

"Well, maybe the ICT nomination was part of it. But I don't think those are the only reasons he chose you. There was also Medena," she said. "You did get yourself a couple of medals for that."

He looked up. "You've read my file? I thought you didn't have extranet access."

"I don't, but I have basic intranet and a _lot_ of time on my hands. Information on Alliance victories isn't hard to find."

She paused, considering her next words. After reading the file, she had come to the reluctant conclusion that he was a very, very lucky man. On the surface, he was a hero and had been awarded his medals as such – just as she had been after Akuze and the Citadel – but when you read a little further into it, heroics were only the start of the story.

On Medena, he and his squad had saved the lives of a dozen scientists who had been working on the planet and taken out a previously hidden geth base along the way. However, the way he had conducted the operation was nothing short of irresponsible. Even dangerous. And he had done it with the scientists – all civilians – in tow, ostensibly because the mission required their tech capabilities. The report didn't go into nearly enough detail about why he had made that particular choice, considering he had a full squad of marines with him, including tech specialists.

Based on that one mission she certainly wouldn't have recommended him to N school, but she supposed he could have grown since then and led plenty of successful operations. It had been two years ago, after all. If he had been green back then he might not necessarily be now. Besides, she wasn't his training officer and she wasn't exactly in a position to give him a lecture on it in her current situation. So she simply said, "Medena turned out very well."

"Thanks," he murmured, and she spotted a quick, proud smile as it touched his lips. Inwardly she winced. _Surely someone chewed him out for it. At least for using a bunch of civilians as tech specialists when it wasn't necessary._

Perhaps they hadn't. There had been a strong media blitz by Alliance PR after she had defeated Saren, looking to capitalise on the sudden good press she had generated. Maybe they had pushed him into the light of the cameras too quickly to have a really good look at the mission reports, or maybe they just didn't care. Heroes, especially heroes that were a little more pleasing to the eye than your average Alliance marine grunt, were hard to come by.

Well, N school would sort him out. She wasn't sure how he had managed to get nominated, but now that he had, he would have a hard time getting away with that sort of recklessness at the villa.

They both finished off their meals, and Shepard sat back with a contented sigh. She wouldn't admit it to anyone if they asked, but she had needed this. It had been far too long, even prior to her incarceration, since she had sat down with a friend and simply ate a meal together. No impending missions to geth bases, no Batarian slavers to intercept, just food and company. "Thanks for dinner, Nathan," she said with a smile.

He returned the smile with one of his own. "No problem, Shepard," he replied. He glanced over at the door to her room, and his smile took on a decidedly mischievous slant. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out something that looked suspiciously like a flask.

Her eyebrows shot up and she leaned forward. "Is that what I think it is?"

"If you think it's engine lubricant, then no, but you're surprisingly close," he replied. He unscrewed the lid and poured a finger's worth of greenish-blue liquid into her empty glass, then pushed it over to her across the table.

She lifted it to her nose and sniffed cautiously, then jerked away at the strong smell of alcohol. Only one type of alcohol had that particular heady aroma. She gave him a suspicious look. "Just how much ryncol did you put in this?"

He gave her his best innocent look in return. "Well, it's not _all _ryncol." He poured his own drink and without waiting for her, tossed it down in one easy gulp. He grinned triumphantly, eyes watering, and gestured at her expectantly.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You can't just get drunk while you're on duty, Lieutenant."

He waved her concern away. "Don't worry, Corporal Menzies is covering for me. Drink up."

Damn, she could really do with a drink. She swirled the blue liquid around in the bottom of her glass, then quickly downed it all in one swallow. She winked at him and sat back comfortably, daintily crossing one leg over the other.

He laughed. "Okay, Shepard, it's on." He poured again, for the two of them, and they both drank.

The buzz hit her pretty quickly, despite her Cerberus-enhanced liver – not surprising if there really was a lot of ryncol in that drink – and after they had goaded each other into a few more shots Shepard started to feel a little dizzy. She took comfort in the fact that her drinking buddy seemed to be having a worse time of it, though he drank less than she did. He moved a little slower as he poured another shot, being a bit more careful. He managed to get all the liquid into the glasses rather than on the table, but he didn't seem to be quite as precise with the amount this time.

He passed her glass over and she finished it off as quickly as she had the previous ones, smirking as he gave her an incredulous look. The dizziness intensified, and she decided it would be against her best interests to try standing up at this point. Nope, no standing. She would just sit here, where she was, and enjoy the feeling of warmth spreading through her bones.

Briggs was a bit slower this time, and the look in his eyes was pained. He finished off his glass in two swallows and protested, "You know, you're a lot little… littler than me, Shepard. Where are you… putting all that?" he waved in the general direction of their glasses.

She wasn't entirely sure to be honest, Cerberus upgrades aside, but she had a good answer for that. "I'm _Commander Fucking Shepard_. I'm good at everything. Even drinking. _Especially_ drinking." Ha! That was a good line. She made a note to use it more often.

"Except treadmills," Briggs retorted with a sly grin.

"That _totally _wasn't my fault," she protested, leaning forward over the edge of the table, dimly aware that she should probably be very emphatic about this, because it _totally _wasn't her fault. "I told you before! You… startled me!"

"I _caught _you!" He stabbed a pointed finger at her across the table. "I _saved _you."

"Pfft," she scoffed and pushed herself to her feet, forgetting her resolution to not do that. She pointed her own finger at Briggs and continued, "Nobody saves Commander… Fucking…" she trailed off as the room began to spin. "Woah. Think I'll sit down now." She sat down hard and closed her eyes. "That's some… good… ryncol, Briggs."

"Hell yeah it is."

"Think we should stop now. You're prob… probably a bad guard when you're… drunk," she finished carefully.

He snorted, leaning back and relaxing into his chair. "I'm off du… duty. But even if I wasn't… I'm still sharp. I could totally gua… guard you." She snorted and he glared at her. "I could! It's not… not very hard. I'm not even… really a guard_._ I don't do… guard things. I bring you stuff. And follow you… places." He lapsed into a comfortable silence.

She nodded, enjoying the way the room spun slightly as her head moved. "True. But you're good at bringing me stuff and… following me places."

She hung her head back and gazed at the ceiling foggily for a while, enjoying the buzz. After a while she looked at him again and mused, "Do you think they'll leave me here forever?"

"Nah," he replied. "You'll be… ackw… acquitted once the Batarians have calmed down a bit. You'll get comm… community service, or something."

She frowned. "Fuck," she drew the word out like a groan. "How much comm… community service would make up for killing three… three hundred thousand… Fuck. I'll be picking up litter and… cleaning toilets for years." Even as the words left her mouth, she cringed. Wow, that was in bad taste. Yeah, she had had enough to drink.

"For the rest of… rest of your life."

She grimaced despondently, still feeling guilty about her previous off-colour statement. "Still wouldn't be enough."

He nodded sombrely in agreement. A moment later, he looked up, and with the boldness of someone who was completely inebriated, asked, "Why did you do it?"

She blinked, and remembered standing at the comms terminal on the Project asteroid, staring out at the inexorably approaching mass relay and trying in vain to warn the colonists to evacuate. Knowing they wouldn't have time. Knowing she couldn't have made any decision other than destroying that relay, no matter the cost. Knowing she might not be able to get off the asteroid before it hit and making her peace with that.

She got up, again forgetting her resolution to stay seated. She felt like she had to move. "I had to," she replied, wobbling precariously for the first few steps. Annoyed at that, she concentrated on walking steadily, maintaining her balance.

"But why?" Nathan persisted, eyes following her.

_Because the fucking Reapers would have arrived and killed us all six months ago if I hadn't, _she thought to herself with a flash of white-hot anger. But even in her drunken state, she knew she couldn't tell Nathan that. "Clas… classified," she mumbled, a hard edge to her voice.

"Oh, come on. Really? Again?"

She whirled on him and took a quick step to stay balanced. "Yes, again. Stop pushing it!"

He shot to his feet, angry too now. "No! Fuck that! You can't just get away with _murdering_ hundreds of thousands of people for no fucking reason!"

"No reason? I had a _hell_ of a good reason." She paced again, and stopped at the window, looking out at the lights below. "I just can't tell you about it. _Fuck_ this."

Fuck all of this, fuck everything. Being stuck in this room while the races of the galaxy _ignored_ their own impending destruction, not being able to talk about the Reapers with her only link to the outside world, not being able to convince the people who needed to the most to listen to her, being so completely _powerless_. Fuck it all.

Before she realised what she was doing, her fist flew out and slammed into the military-grade armoured glass.

* * *

Nathan jumped to his feet, anger forgotten, almost tripping as he reached her in a couple of quick strides. He grabbed her wrist and yanked her around. "Shepard! What the hell?" he yelled at her.

She blinked, jerked back and then seemed to just deflate. "Uh…" she began, but trailed off. She appeared lost for a moment, then her face contorted into a mixture of seething anger and sheer frustration. He had the sudden realisation that she had allowed everything she normally kept hidden to rush to the surface, boiling over in a moment of weakness. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but he couldn't tell if that was from the alcohol or unshed tears. He didn't see a single one of those. Her eyes were dry.

A fierce rush of affection for her rolled over him like a wave. She was drunk and hurting and had been through more than any human being should ever have to go through, but she was _not_ crying.

He took hold of her hand properly. He carefully examined the skin, running his thumbs over her knuckles to check for dislocations or tears. He checked each finger, one by one. There were no injuries that he could see, but she would probably have a radiant purple bruise the next day.

Satisfied that she wasn't hurt, he found that he didn't want to let her hand go just yet. It was small against his palm, smooth and warm. She had turned her attention to the night sky outside the window, and the distant but barely visible stars. Her agitation was palpable. Gently, not really knowing if this was the ryncol talking or not, he allowed his fingers to curl protectively around her hand.

She turned her head slightly, and looked up at him. Slowly, the fury drained away. Her eyes were a deep, shimmering blue, a colour he was sure he had never seen before. Or perhaps he had… on arrival at Earth his shuttle had entered the atmosphere directly above the Pacific Ocean. They had dipped under the clouds, and there, at the edge of the horizon, the ocean had been that particular blue.

She was warm too. He was standing quite close, close enough to feel her body heat. His eyes drifted to her lips, soft and full and slightly parted. Distantly, he knew he should step away. But he… didn't want to.

* * *

Shepard gazed up at Nathan, aware through the haze of ryncol clouding her brain that she was staring, but too focussed on what she was staring at to worry too much about it. Her eyes drank in the soft curve of his lips, offset with the strong lines of his jaw. His rich brown hair was slightly tousled, as it always seemed to be, and he had the beginnings of a thin layer of stubble as he always did by the end of the day. She was close enough to see that stubble now, the tiny hairs giving his face a shadow of depth. She had a sudden urge to touch it, to lay her fingers gently against his cheek and feel the rough edges against her skin.

Her hand was halfway to his face before she remembered where they were.

She stepped away quickly, gently pulling her hand free from his. She cleared her throat. Her voice, when she spoke, was a little deeper than she had intended. "You should go, Lieutenant," she said, intentionally using his rank. He started to protest, but she cut him off. "I'm fine. I… apologise for the dramatics. I'm okay. I… I think I should sleep this off."

He took a step back, reluctantly. He appeared to have sobered up a little. He slowly collected his flask from the table and turned to leave, then turned back hesitantly. "I'll be outside tomorrow morning… if you need me," he said.

She nodded. "Thank you," she replied, watching as he left the room. The door slid shut behind him, lock clicking into place.

She slowly took a seat in one of the chairs. She laid the hand she had hit the window with on her thigh, flexing it experimentally.

_Of all the stupid bloody things she could have done…_

She grimaced. Her hand was sore, unsurprisingly, and her head still swam a bit, although the adrenaline had dulled that somewhat. She would have a nice bruise the next morning to go with what was sure to be a killer hangover.

It was her gun hand, too. She snorted morosely. Perhaps she should have thought ahead and hit the window with the hand that _didn't_ hold her gun. Not that it mattered right now. There was nothing to shoot in the detention centre, other than the defence committee, and she highly doubted shooting them would help them acknowledge the Reaper threat. She was sure she could manage holding a fork with her left hand for a while.

Now that the adrenaline was starting to wear off, she was surprised and ashamed at herself. She had never lost it like that before.

She had been in plenty of situations to warrant losing it. Waking up on a table in a Cerberus lab only to find out that two years had passed while she had been raised from the dead and rebuilt would have to be right up there on the list of Things That It Would Be Okay To Lose It About. But she hadn't. She had kept it together like a champion. Having to make a choice between Ash and Kaidan on Virmire would be up there, along with bearing the brunt of Kaidan's survivor's guilt when he found out. But she held it together through that, too.

Perhaps it was just the final straw. Just another impossible situation piled on top of all the rest. Her brain, even with its Cerberus enhancements, had had enough, couldn't take it anymore, and with a liberal dose of inhibition-relaxing alcohol had simply let go.

No doubt Briggs' presence had helped with that. For some inexplicable reason, she felt comfortable around him, trusted him. His touch on her hand had been… And his soft brown eyes…

She shook her head. It had been nice. Fine. She could admit it. But that was all she would allow herself to do. Admit it, and move on. There was nothing else she _could _do.

She would have to do the same thing with her anger and frustration at being trapped here in this cell, too. Admit she felt it, acknowledge it, and set it aside. Compartmentalise. She had more important things to worry about. The committee may not believe her now, but they _would. _She would make sure of it.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Time to dive into the action! Thanks to meleba for beta-ing this chapter. Any remaining mistakes are all mine._

* * *

**Chapter Six**

Nathan arrived on time for his shift the next morning, despite his pounding head. That ryncol sure had packed a punch. It was nothing like any of the liquor originating on Earth. Even the strongest stuff from Earth generally took a while longer and a greater quantity to do what the ryncol had done in a few shots and _maybe_ half an hour.

He winced as the sun caught a metal surface through the windows in the guard station. He should have brought something more mundane than ryncol to their little dinner, but Shepard didn't seem like a red wine or gin and tonic type of woman.

He had wanted to engineer a way for her to just relax for a few hours, where she could take her mind off whatever the big looming threat she had told him about on the terrace was. He had thought a quick drink would do it, but damned if it didn't shake some things loose that were probably better left tied down.

He was sure she wouldn't thank him for that. She always played her cards close to her chest, never really let on if something was bothering her. Before last night, she had only opened up a little, and only a couple of times. She had only hinted at something simmering beneath the façade. But last night, it seemed like it had all come roaring up to the surface and smashing into her window.

And after that…

Her outburst had shaken him, and he had reacted on instinct, trying to protect her – and if that wasn't a ridiculous sentiment when applied to Commander Shepard, he didn't know what was – by stopping her from injuring herself while she wasn't thinking straight. He had taken hold of her hand first to restrain her, then to check she wasn't hurt. And then, even though he knew he should have, he hadn't been able to let go.

When she had tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes…

He shook his head and roughly pushed that thought aside, grabbing the datapad with the day's notices. She had sent him away – _with good reason! _– and he had slunk moodily back to his apartment, barely making it through the doorway before collapsing onto his bed and passing out.

He had let himself get too close, and made the mistake of letting the drunken haze shrouding his mind at the time control his actions. The fact that she had seemed to reciprocate, just for a moment, meant nothing. She had been drunk too. And no matter how beautiful her eyes were, she was a _prisoner. _He was assigned as her guard. Looking at her like that, thinking about her like that, was all kinds of wrong_. _

Besides, she was so far out of his league she was practically in another galaxy.

He looked over the day's notices, trying to clear his throbbing head. Shepard had another meeting with the Alliance Defence Committee at 1100. At least she would have time to eat some breakfast this time. Last time she had been dragged out at 0800 and kept all through the morning, meaning she had to skip it entirely. Petty, but he doubted it had been intentional.

He headed over to the detention block, dodging people as he went. The corridors were busy today, and people were moving quickly, heads down, murmuring to one another in strained tones. It was obvious that something was up. He wondered what was going on. Nothing had been in his notices for today, so it had to either be something unplanned or something that didn't concern him.

Shepard's wing was quiet, though, and the night shift guard had nothing to say when he relieved him. Nathan took up his post as he always did in the mornings, listening to the muffled noises of Shepard moving around beyond the cell door.

He wondered if he should say something to her. Apologise for providing the ryncol, perhaps. Or for his unprofessional behaviour. He grimaced. _Probably both. _He didn't want to barge in on her this early though. He figured it could wait until he brought her breakfast.

His omnitool pinged.

Surprised, he raised his arm and brought up the interface. He had it programmed to be discrete while he was on duty, and that included playing no audio unless an incoming message was marked as urgent, priority one. He had never received a priority one message before, not while he wasn't deployed. But sure enough, there was one sitting in his inbox. He opened it up.

_Received: 0711 Vancouver Local Time_

_Sent: G. Laurence On Behalf Of Alliance Defence Command PRIORITY 1_

_Recipient: Lieutenant Nathan Briggs_

_Message: Shepard required to report to ADC Situation Room IMMEDIATELY. End._

The message left no room for standing around and wondering what had happened to warrant Shepard's presence in the situation room. Priority One orders were to be acted on immediately. Frowning, he shut off the omnitool's interface and spun around, waving the lock to the cell door open.

"Shepard," he called as he stepped into the room.

She leaned out of the bathroom alcove, towel wrapped around her hair, but thankfully fully dressed in t-shirt and navy BDU pants. He was fervently glad she wasn't half-naked. He couldn't have handled that level of awkward in his current condition. "Not so loud," she protested.

Looked like she had a hangover too. No time to worry about that now, though. "We have to go," he told her. "You've been called to the Situation Room, priority one."

Her eyes narrowed, and he suddenly found himself remembering his first impression of her from five months ago, when they had first met. He had thought she looked _soft. _He wondered how on Earth he could ever have thought _that._ With her jaw tightened, eyes hard and lips pressed together in a tense line she was a long way from soft_._

She rung her hair out with the towel quickly and efficiently, then used her fingers to gather it into a tight bun. She was favouring her right hand slightly, allowing her left to do most of the work. "Any further information, Lieutenant?" she asked in clipped tones as she worked.

"No, ma'am," he responded, her tone inspiring his military discipline to kick in without requiring conscious thought.

She grabbed her BDU jacket from its hangar and strode over. "Let's go," she prompted, and he quickly unlocked the door and fell in behind her as she made her way out of the detention centre, pulling on her jacket as she went and rolling the sleeves up to her elbows. She dodged smoothly through the busy corridors and by the time they reached the situation room, the jacket was on and buttoned, gold rank bars prominent on her collar. Idly he wondered why they hadn't bothered removing those when she was stripped of her rank.

The anteroom was filled with people, and Nathan was suddenly aware that he had a real job to do. Today he wasn't there just for show. All were in uniform, but most were of low rank, especially compared to the very high value target it was his job to protect. Crowds were a perfect disguise for potential threats, and low-ranking military personnel were easy to infiltrate. He scanned the room, looking for said threats, and was ready when a man stepped forward as they entered.

"Shepard!" he called, hurrying over.

Nathan stepped in front of his charge, hand drifting automatically to his sidearm. He had barely moved, however, when Shepard laid a hand on his arm and stepped nimbly around him. "Kaidan," she greeted the man, stepping forward to meet him and allowing him to pull her into a bear hug.

Nathan felt a momentary flash of irritation at being pushed aside, as well as the sense that he might have overreacted, but he dismissed both. He had done what his job required of him, nothing more or less. And the fact that Shepard clearly knew _this_ man did not reduce the potential danger from the other people in the room. He kept his eyes open, scanning, while the two spoke.

"What's going on, Kaidan?" he heard Shepard ask.

"I don't know, I just got here," the man – Kaidan – responded. He sounded worried. "I'm supposed to present a report to the Defence Chiefs at 0800. Shepard… there hasn't been much information coming out of HQ. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine." Nathan heard strained undertones in her voice and knew she was lying. "Just frustrated, being stuck in here."

An aide ducked out of the situation room and beckoned at him. She pointed to Shepard and gestured back through the door. He nodded in reply and turned to Shepard. "Ma'am, they want you now," he told her.

She nodded curtly. "I'll talk to you later, Kaidan," she said, gripping his hand briefly before hurrying after the aide. Kaidan nodded a farewell before heading off in the other direction and Nathan followed Shepard, a little unsure of what he should be doing now. Part of his duty as a guard was to stay with his prisoner at all times, both for protection and to prevent escape. While he highly doubted either role would actually be needed, he understood that it was also his duty – probably his primary duty – to keep up appearances of both at all times.

He wasn't sure if that extended into such a highly classified space as the Alliance Headquarters Situation Room though. Normally, it most definitely would not, and he would wait outside as he had done for Shepard's earlier meeting with the Defence Committee. But in the current environment, which was a step above organised chaos and thus increased the chances of both attack and escape tenfold, he wasn't sure.

_What the hell, _he thought, and trailed her into the room. To his surprise, no one told him to leave.

The room was huge. Banks of monitors lined the first half of the room on either side, terminals occupied by bustling Alliance personnel. As he and Shepard entered, some of them looked up, eyes darting to Shepard, before resuming their work. There was a large expanse of open space between the door and a massive table at the other end of the room, which sat up on a dais and was surrounded by the Defence Chiefs themselves. All were standing, arguing with one another and occasionally gesticulating towards the holographical star map hovering over the table. Parts of the star map were an ominous red.

One of the Admirals noticed them and beckoned to Shepard. She hurried over and he followed. "Shepard," he greeted her, sparing a quick glance for Nathan but otherwise ignoring him. "We've got a problem."

She bounded up the steps to the dais. He took up a position on the ground floor nearby, unobtrusive but within reach. "Is it the Reapers?" she asked, voice low and tense but pitched just high enough for those on the dais to hear her. _Reapers? _He hadn't heard that term before.

One of the other Admirals responded. All had stopped arguing and had turned their attention to her. "We… don't know. The whole Batarian Hegemony has gone dark. We were hoping you could confirm it for us."

She stepped up to the table and commandeered one of the terminals. Out of the corner of his eye, Nathan saw her expression harden as she scanned the information on the screen. After a while she straightened, then appeared to think better of that and planted her arms on the table before her, leaning forward and resting most of her upper body weight on them. "Fuck," she whispered. He was pretty sure he was the only one who had heard that. Something cold settled itself in the pit of his stomach. _The threat she was talking about that day on the terrace… Reapers…_

She continued, louder. "It's them. Signatures match. Ships match. News reports match. The Reapers are here."

A rustle went through the room, and Nathan turned to find the personnel who had been working on the terminals at the far end of the room had stopped what they were doing and were watching. Some of them exchanged fearful glances. The admirals were reacting in a similar fashion. One of them, a thin man with greying hair, finally spoke up. "But… it's impossible—"

Shepard cut him off sharply. "The evidence is right there, Admirals. The time for arguing is over. We need to _act._"

Another admiral spoke up, this time a woman with short hair and a pinched expression. "How do we _stop them_, Shepard?"

Nathan swallowed. The amount to which the Defence Chiefs of the Alliance deferred to Shepard on this subject was… unsettling. Surely she was not the only one who had any experience with these… Reapers? Whatever they were?

"Stop them?" Shepard repeated incredulously, voice edging dangerously toward fury. Nathan knew it was taking a massive effort for her to tamp down on months of frustration and inaction. "It's going to take everything we have to _survive_!"

Before she could continue, a shout came from the monitoring stations. "Admirals, we've lost contact with Luna Base!"

The grey-haired admiral took a few steps in that direction. "_What? _But we're light years from the last reported sighting—"

Another technician. "London Headquarters reporting multiple hostile contacts, emergency request for assistance, priority one!"

And another. "Johannesburg with the same message!"

"I can't raise Sydney!"

Shepard's voice cut in above the increasingly panicked reports and murmuring voices, her own voice steady and clear as she raised it high enough to be heard. "They're here. We are a target. We need to evacuate _now_."

Nathan was facing Shepard, who had turned toward the techs at the back of the room, so he saw it before she did. Outside the window, in the clouds hovering over Vancouver, appeared a single monstrous black insectoid leg. It was followed by another, and another, until four claw-like legs were visible below the clouds, lowering toward the city below as if to grasp the nearest building. An immense, mollusc-shaped body followed, glistening with red and purple lights at junctions of vertebrae. As he watched, a single red portal irised open in the middle of the superstructure, glowing with heat.

"_Fuck_," Shepard swore. She had obviously seen it too. "_Move move move!" _she yelled, drill sergeant tone slicing through the paralysis of those who had seen the same thing as Nathan. People started running for the exits, screaming in fear. Shepard leapt off the dais, crashing into Nathan and shoving him bodily off to the side. "_Get down!" _

He caught a glimpse of red destruction bearing down on them, and then everything turned to fire. Shepard's weight disappeared. The huge table went flying over his head to crash into the far wall. Wood exploded as the plasma beam hit, sending splinters shooting through the air and into vid-screens, walls and people. Glass shards rained down and metal bubbled and melted as he huddled in the corner, pressing his back into the dais and trying to protect his head. With a screeching roar a metal support pillar came down on the other side of the room, bringing half the ceiling with it.

When the roar had faded slightly and the beam was gone, he lifted his head and pushed himself to his feet, stumbling as he tried to take stock of what had happened. Reapers. Was that one of their ships out there? It looked vaguely like the pictures he had seen of the geth ship, Sovereign, years ago. His ears rang. Sunlight caught his eyes and almost blinded him as he looked out over the rubble where the Defence Chiefs' table used to sit. The room was now open to the outside air, half collapsed, half creaking on an unstable floor.

He coughed as dust invaded his lungs. _Shepard. _Her weight had disappeared when they had hit the ground. What had happened to her? He scanned the room around him and hurried over to a body in an admiral's uniform, flipping it over. He backed away when he saw the woman's staring, sightless eyes. In a flash he realised just how lucky he had been to have had the protection of the dais at his back. He ran to another body, one of the techs. The man was impaled by a wooden splinter, straight through the throat. He swallowed. What if Shepard… _Don't think about it. _He spun around, searching.

_Shepard!_

He spotted her halfway between the dais and one of the monitoring stations, sprawled flat on her back, not moving. "Shepard!" he yelled.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Thanks to Meleba and VorchaGirl for their wonderful and very much appreciated beta-ing.  
_

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

Shepard launched herself off the dais and slammed into Nathan, using her whole body weight to _shove _him off to the side, as far toward the edge of the room as possible while still staying in the shadow of the dais. If they were lucky, the meagre cover it provided would save them.

He hit the ground with a thump, his bulk cushioning her own awkward landing. Before she could move, a rough slab of concrete hit her side-on, sending her flying off Nathan in a tangle of limbs. She tucked and closed her arms over her head as best she could, but her elbow clipped something solid, spinning her, and suddenly her head was unprotected and—

She heard a sickening crack. Everything flashed white, then faded to black.

* * *

The first thing she became aware of was a slick wetness at the back of her head. Groaning, she forced her eyes open, then immediately squeezed them shut as roaring sound and blinding light rushed in. It felt as though something was pressing in on either side of her head, leaving her groggy and disoriented. She squinted and blinked through watering eyes, but all she could see was fire and debris. She could feel the heat radiating off the flames and smell the ash in the air.

She raised a hand to the matted hair at the back of her head and held it up in front of her eyes, blinking at the red smear of blood on her fingers. _Not good. _Suddenly a face appeared above her, looking down with a concern bordering on panic. _Nathan. _She felt a rush of relief, both at the fact that he was alive and that she remembered who he was, given her obvious head injury.

Nathan grabbed her arm and pulled her up to her feet, the movement sending shivers of pain through her head. She scrambled to get her uncooperative feet to hold her weight. She winced, blinking to try to clear her head, and he leaned down so he was directly in her line of vision. His mouth was moving, but she couldn't hear what he was saying through the roaring in her ears. He shook his head and grasped her arm, turning her away so he could get a good look at whatever was causing all that blood to soak into her hair. She could feel it trickling down the back of her neck now as his fingers gently probed the area. Not a good sign.

He produced a tube of medi-gel from somewhere, squeezing its contents directly onto the back of her head and carefully working it in under her hair. Cool tingles immediately spread across her skull. She gasped with relief as the pain receded. Her vision cleared somewhat, and the rushing in her ears dulled to the sound of a loud breeze.

"Shepard?" Nathan was asking, again staring at her from inches away, brow lined with worry. "Can you hear me?"

She nodded hesitantly, expecting pain, but it didn't materialise. "I can hear you." Her mouth was dry.

Relief settled over his eyes for a moment, but was quickly gone. "Do you remember what happened?" he asked.

"I… yes. Shit. Yes." She blinked, taking in the ruins of the situation room. Bodies were sprawled across the floor haphazardly. Half the room was little more than rubble. There were far fewer bodies than there had been staffers in the room before the Reapers attacked… She swallowed, realising the rest of the bodies would probably be crushed under the rubble.

She clenched her jaw and clamped down hard on the sick feeling in her stomach. They needed to get out of there _fast. _Alliance HQ was a top priority target and the Reapers would want to kill or capture anyone left alive. There was no time to waste on fear or grief.

"We need to get out of here," Nathan echoed her thoughts, shouting over the rending sound of a Reaper klaxon coming from uncomfortably close outside.

Shepard tapped her ear. "Do you have comms?" she called in reply, wishing for her own in-ear comm. She hadn't had one of those since she had been taken into custody.

He laid a finger over his ear then shook his head and pulled out his omnitool. The interface flashed to life, but Shepard could see a multitude of red error symbols and knew it wasn't going to work. She looked around the room, searching for other options.

Spotting a bank of untouched terminals on the less-damaged side of the room, she hurried over, trying to test and shake out her limbs as she went. Nothing complained beyond some light aches and minor sprains. Thankfully it appeared her head-wound was her only real injury. It was nothing to sneer at, but it would only cause problems if it caused her to lose focus or start to feel nauseous at the wrong time. She could work with it.

Nathan followed her, closing down his omnitool. "I have text only, and I can only connect directly to another receiver. I can't get any comm channels on it," he told her.

She nodded grimly and pulled up a holographic keyboard on one of the terminals, tapping a few things into it experimentally. Thankfully it appeared to be accepting commands. She needed to get a comm channel up and running. The Alliance had emergency bands set up that would no doubt be in use; if she could broadcast a distress signal on that maybe she could find a ship that could pick them up and get them off Earth.

She _had _to get to the _Normandy_. The Reapers were finally here. She had to _fight_, and the best way she could do that would be from her ship.

She had no idea what they had done with it after she had turned herself in. For all she knew, it was half way across the other side of the galaxy under a new Captain. The idea gave her an unpleasant pang of dread. There was no way they would let a ship as advanced and useful as the _Normandy_ sit around in mothballs for months while its commander languished in prison; of _course_ they had reassigned it.

_What if it had been destroyed?_

What if they had assigned a new Captain who had gotten _her _ship blown up?

She shook her head. Now she was just being silly. She got to work on the terminal, pushing all thoughts of another broken _Normandy_ out of her mind. It was probably fine. All she had to do was get off Earth and get in contact with whoever was in command up there. She thought they would probably assign her to the Normandy, but when it came right down to it, it didn't matter. Hell, if they busted her down to Private she could live with it as long as they put her on the front lines. There was no way they could lock her away in a cell again when the Reapers were attacking.

The terminal squawked at her again and she slapped her hand against its housing in frustration. It wasn't allowing her to log in. If she couldn't get them off Earth because she had forgotten her goddamn password…

"For god's sake, Shepard, move over," Nathan muttered in equal parts amusement and irritation, elbowing her aside. She glared at him, annoyed at the humour in his tone, then watched as he calmly entered his own information and was immediately granted access. "Your access was revoked, remember?"

She glared daggers at his back. She had forgotten that. "Just get us a comm channel," she ordered, ignoring the fact that she technically couldn't order anyone to do anything.

Nathan didn't seem to notice. His hands flew over the holographic keys, eliciting happy chirps from the terminal, until he ran into a decidedly prominent error. He muttered something to himself and ducked back behind the terminal housing. It took him a couple of minutes, but when he got up the error message was gone, replaced by an active comm interface. He grinned triumphantly at her.

_Huh. _Looked like Nathan Briggs was a bit of a tech. She wouldn't have picked it.

He opened the channel and leaned forward so he was within range of the voice pickup. "All ships in the vicinity of Alliance HQ, this is Lieutenant Nathan Briggs. I have Commander Shepard with me. We require urgent extraction. Repeat, I have Commander Shepard with me and we require urgent extraction."

Shepard grimaced at his use of her name. It _was_ good thinking on Nathan's part to use it – it would work to get them bumped up to the top of the priority list for extraction, if such a thing existed – but that didn't mean she had to like it. When you came right down to it she was just another soldier. Why should she get extracted ahead of anyone else?

To cover her discomfort she jogged over to one of the dead Alliance soldiers and claimed his pistol. As she straightened, she quickly laid a hand on his still shoulder, silently promising him that the Reapers would pay for what they had done to Earth. She cocked the pistol efficiently and tucked it into the waistband of her BDU trousers.

Nathan repeated his call for assistance, casting nervous glances at the edge of the room that was open to the sky. Shepard could see the fiery trails of drop ships landing, as well as a Reaper moving around out there. It was far too close, but focused elsewhere at the moment. She watched as its plasma beam rent through another building, sending it slowly crumbling to the ground in a cloud of dust and ash. She steeled her heart as the number of people who had just lost their lives flashed through her mind. Her blood boiled. She would find a way to wipe the Reapers from the face of the _galaxy_.

"_Lieutenant Briggs, this is the _Normandy_. You say you have Commander Shepard with you?"_

The voice was intertwined with static, but she would know it anywhere. She darted over and leaned toward the voice pickup. "Joker, is that you?"

"_Shepard! Aren't you supposed to be—Wait, forget it, where are you? I'm coming to get you."_

"We're at Alliance HQ. Can you pick up our location from Briggs' omnitool?" she asked, glancing toward him. He nodded and brought up his omnitool interface, keying in a command.

"_Got it. It reads as being inside the building, you need to get out to somewhere I can get to. Ping me from the omnitool again when—shit, Commander, gotta go, see you soon!"_

Shepard felt a fierce rush of joy. The _Normandy_ was _here_! And with Joker at the helm! If they could just get somewhere he could bring the _Normandy_, they would be off Earth and into the battle faster than she could ever have hoped for. She drew her pistol and cocked it, holding it at low ready and jogging for the open edge of the room. "Let's go, Briggs," she called to him.

"On your six, Commander," he replied.

That brought her to a halt. She looked back at him, surprised. Aside from the distress call he had just made, Nathan hadn't used her rank at all since they had first met. The fact that he was using it now meant that he intended to honour it. He had effectively just told her that he would follow her lead.

And that meant… he trusted her. She knew they had started to get along very well – in fact, she would consider him a friend – but she hadn't realised that he trusted her as much as she had instinctively come to trust him. He was trusting her with his _life _by putting himself under her command_. _She felt… honoured.

He gestured impatiently at the open sky outside, sheepish. "Don't give me that look. Out of the two of us, you're the only one who seems to have some idea what the hell these _Reaper _things are, so you have the best chance of saving our asses. Get to it, Shepard." His eyes twinkled with amusement.

She tossed him an exasperated look, fighting a grin as something fluttered low in her stomach. There was something about the way he looked at her, the way he lazily poked good-natured fun at her that she just couldn't get enough of.

She cleared her throat. "Shut it, _Lieutenant," _she fired back. "Just keep up." She stepped out onto the wide ledge on the side of the building.

* * *

Nathan let himself grin as she turned away and climbed out onto the ledge. If there was one thing he had really grown to enjoy doing over the past few weeks, it was teasing Shepard. The looks she gave him were priceless. Vancouver was already largely in ruins and their chances of making it out of there weren't particularly good, but _this_, the banter he had become used to between them, was _normal_. If he kept it up, it was something that could keep him grounded.

He followed her as she worked her way along the wide concrete surface, keeping his pistol out and ready. His boots crunched on broken glass as he walked. The ledge wasn't particularly narrow but he was well aware of the long fall to the ground twenty stories below. He didn't look down or out at the burning city, keeping his eyes firmly set on Shepard's back.

She didn't appear to be bothered by the height. She glanced over the edge numerous times, seemingly keeping an eye out for something. "What are you looking for?" he called out to her.

"Husks," she replied. "Blue and black humanoids with cybernetic enhancements. They like to climb."

_Great. _He shuddered and braved a look over the edge himself. _Holy shit! _Quickly he pulled back. Yep, they were up just as high as he thought they were. "So… I don't know if this is the right time to mention this but I'm not the best with heights," he shouted.

Shepard tossed him an amused glance. "Just cover the walls above us, then, and keep an eye on our six," she told him, taking another look over the edge as she walked. This time she leaned a little closer and squinted down at the ground below. "Dammit. We're going to have company in a few minutes," she warned, all mirth gone from her tone.

Nathan swore, spinning around and scanning the direction they had come from for an alternative route down. There was nothing, though; the way past the blown out windows of the situation room was blocked in the other direction. "No way back," he said.

Shepard had stopped next to one of the immense concrete support pillars that led straight up the side of the building. It had been scored along the entire outward-facing length, leaving a naked rocky surface exposed to the wind. Nathan's heart sank. "Oh, Christ," he murmured. "No way."

Somehow she heard him over the wind and screams and shrieking metal. "You can do it," she said with conviction. "We can't go down, there are too many husks for us to take with pistols. I'll go first. Follow me up. Be careful, but we need to move quickly." Without further ado she tucked her pistol into her waistband and began to climb.

Mouthing a string of creative swear words, he waited for her to get a few metres up then secured his own pistol against the magnetic plate in his belt and followed.

It was a disconcerting and dangerous climb. He carefully checked each handhold as he moved, fully aware that just because they could hold Shepard did not mean they could hold his greater weight. Every time the building shook with the reverberation of the destruction the Reapers were meting out across the city his heart leapt into his throat. His muscles tensed and he clung to the pillar, hoping it would hold.

They were almost shaken loose twice, and once Nathan had frozen in sheer terror, certain it was all over, as a Reaper angled its glowing weapons port in their direction. The plasma beam had impacted a few hundred metres back in the direction they had come from, however, so he had forced a deep breath and continued to climb.

By the time they reached the top of the building, his muscles were tightly tensed and sore. He was glad to stop and rest his weight on his legs, bracing against the wind, when Shepard signalled the halt. She inched up to the top of the pillar, which was flush with the roof. She raised her head up just high enough to see over the top. He kept a sharp eye on her, ready to move quickly if she gave the order. She watched for a few seconds, then slowly lowered her head and looked around. She didn't move to climb up.

She looked down at him, tufts of loose hair blowing around her face, and raised a finger to her lips in the universal signal of _keep the fuck quiet. _He nodded grimly. She pointed to him, then her eyes, then indicated the floor one level below the roof, which remained mostly in one piece. The windows had blown out, but there was a wide, intact balcony jutting out over the length of the building. It appeared undamaged. He nodded in understanding and slowly reversed his climb until he hung next to the balcony wall. He craned his head as best he could to try and see through into the darkened offices beyond, but couldn't quite get the angle right from his current position.

Carefully he edged over onto the balcony wall and dropped to the floor in a crouch, pistol quickly up and ready, grateful to feel solid horizontal concrete beneath his boots once more. He crept up to the now-empty window ledge and looked over.

Nothing. An empty office.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he signalled the all-clear to Shepard, who dropped nimbly down beside him.

"Roof's a no-go?" he asked quietly.

She nodded, grim. "Dropship. Too many hostiles." She paused, thinking.

Nervous, Nathan peeked over the balcony railing, swallowing the vertigo as he looked down. "Those husks aren't far off," he warned. "What if we cut through the office…" As soon as he said it, he changed his mind. It wouldn't work.

Shepard shook her head. "No, they'll be coming down through there, searching for survivors. They can smell us. We can't let them get too close. If they work out I'm here, they'll send everything they have against us."

He glanced at her in surprise. "They would go after you in particular?"

She nodded grimly. "Their leader doesn't like me much."

_Damn_. The leader of an immensely powerful invading race held a grudge against a single Alliance Lieutenant Commander? What had she done to deserve that?

"Ping the _Normandy_, quickly," she ordered. "They'll have to pick us up from here."

Nathan stared at her. "What?"

"Do it now, Lieutenant. Ask questions later," she snapped.

He glowered at her tone, but did as ordered and received a text reply shortly after. _'Inbound. Kaidan aboard.'_

He angled the screen so Shepard could see it. "Perfect," she muttered, leaning in to type a response. Her hair smelled of dust and ash.

'_Zone hot. Pickup from balcony. Kaidan to assist.'_

'_Acknowledged. ETA four minutes.'_

"Right," she said, satisfied. "We hold here for four minutes."

"I can ask questions now?"

She ignored his sarcasm. "When we've got some cover, sure." She cast around for cover but the balcony was almost completely bare. There was another support pillar, this one intact, a dozen metres away. "You take high, I'll take low," she instructed, ducking behind the pillar and crouching down.

He followed her, drawing his pistol and positioning himself behind and above her line of fire. "First question. What the hell are you planning, Shepard? This balcony is _not_ big enough for the _Normandy_ to land."

She glanced up at him with a slow grin. "It won't have to. Joker's at the helm."

He blinked. "So… he's going to back the ship up and we're just going to _jump_?" he demanded.

She shrugged. "I've done it before. Don't worry, it'll be fine. Kaidan's a biotic, he'll catch us."

Nathan stared at her. _It'll be fine? _"It'll be fine? We'll just take a running leap and hope we make it far enough that your biotic friend will be able to catch us? We're going to jump off a _building_?"

She looked up again to reply, eyes shining with laughter, but just then Nathan spotted a blue and black humanoid figure beginning to pull itself over the side of the balcony they had come from. Its black skin seemed to glisten wetly, cybernetics straining to keep pieces of flesh fused together. "Heads up," he barked, raising his pistol. He waited until he had a clear shot, then fired, hitting it in the shoulder.

"Aim for the torso," Shepard advised, all business once more.

He did so, and the thing jerked as its legs suddenly stopped functioning and collapsed to the ground with a wet smack. It lay there unmoving. He shuddered. "What _are_ these things? I've never heard of a race of husks, or an alien species that looks like this."

"They were made from humans," Shepard told him grimly. Another husk crawled onto the balcony and she took it out with a single shot.

He opened his mouth to reply but couldn't find the words. _Made from humans… _He felt sick to his stomach.

Husks began appearing more rapidly, coming over the balcony in pairs. Nathan fired as methodically and accurately as he could, mindful of the fact that he only carried another three thermal clips and Shepard had none. Shepard was freakishly accurate. She ejected her clip long after he had moved onto his second and he was pretty sure every one of her shots had felled a husk.

He passed her a new one and she loaded quickly, then smoothly took out another husk all in the one motion. "Ping them again," she ordered, upping her rate of fire so he could stop.

He raised his omnitool and sent out another ping, checking the four-minute timer he had set. "Two minutes," he informed her.

"Clips?" she asked curtly without taking her eyes off the approaching husks. They were starting to get a foothold on the balcony; two were now on their feet while another two climbed the rail.

He had just reloaded again. "On my last one," he replied. He aimed and fired, and a husk collapsed when one of its calves exploded. To his horror it started crawling toward them, moaning.

"Hurry up, Joker," Shepard muttered as she fired. The husk flopped and went still.

Nathan's pistol overheated after a few more shots. He slapped it back onto the magnetic point on his belt. "What are they like up close?" he asked, priming his omniblade.

"One is easy, but they swarm," Shepard explained. She fired one last time then tucked her pistol into her waistband. "Stay together and stay in the open."

He nodded and moved out of cover, Shepard right beside him. The husks spotted them immediately, letting out unearthly moans as they loped forward. Nathan side-stepped one of them and impaled it on his omniblade, shoving it back into another. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Shepard, who was fighting bare-handed, land a punch so hard the husk's head spun to the side and its neck cracked. _Damn._

Two husks rushed him. He managed to get his omniblade up, slicing it into one husk's chest, but he couldn't pull it free before the other one was on him too. It ran at him mindlessly, arms outstretched, and he threw an awkward punch with his off-hand. His fist connected with a wet smack, sinking into the malleable skin. The husk stumbled but his punch had been relatively weak; it was back up and on him again quickly. He pushed at it with his free arm while trying to get his omniblade free from the other husk's chest. It moaned, straining against his arm. The give in its flesh made it all the more difficult to keep away from him.

Finally he managed to shove the dead husk off his omniblade. It slid to the ground, leaving his arm soaked in black blood. He swung the blade across his body and speared the living husk in the side of the head. It jerked and went still. He let it fall.

Shepard was swearing, surrounded by three of the things. She had one by the arm; as he watched, she swung it awkwardly into another, sending both stumbling away. She continued to spin, using her momentum to backhand the remaining one across the cheek, snapping its neck. The first two husks had risen and were reaching for her; she swung her elbow at one, scoring a glancing blow and knocking it to the side, but the other grabbed her. Nathan reached out to pull it off but she was quicker. She used its weight to fall back and clumsily heave it back over her head, lifting it so its head was caught in the crook of her shoulder while its body continued to cartwheel over her head. Nathan winced as its neck bent in an unnaturally sharp angle and it went limp.

"Damn, Shepard, you sure know some creative ways to break necks," he commented wryly, stabbing the remaining husk through its torso with his omniblade. It was the last one for the moment. No more were climbing over the balcony rail. They had a momentary reprieve.

She shook her head as she clambered to her feet. "I'm a bit rusty," she grumbled. Nathan blinked. It sure hadn't looked that way to him.

She was covered in thick black blood from the side of her face, down her neck, and all of one shoulder. Her face was smudged with streaks of ash and blood – red this time – and her BDUs were barely recognisable.

She had never looked more beautiful.

Her eyes lit up and she nodded at something over his shoulder, smiling. "Our ride is here," she said.

Nathan turned, and felt his heart lift into his throat, spine tingling as the gleaming white hull of the _Normandy_ swung into view, gliding smoothly through a gap between two buildings. It swung around and slowed, engines emitting a high-pitched whine as its pilot fought the wind and its mass effect field met the walls of the Alliance HQ building. He had never seen the _Normandy_ up close before, but the pictures and news segments hadn't done it justice. It was the most beautiful ship he had ever seen.

"Come on." Shepard grabbed his wrist and jogged down to the farthest end of the balcony from the husks. "We'll have to jump together."

Even as she said it, another blue-black head appeared. She was right; they wouldn't have time to jump one by one. Shepard had also been right about not letting them get close. Nathan spotted more husks descending from the roof. They must have recognised her and somehow reported back to whoever was leading them, and now they were starting to swarm.

The hull of the _Normandy _was gliding closer, then swinging around, thrusters burning above and to either side of them. The pilot gradually inched the ship lower, keeping it square. If those thrusters swung over towards them, they'd be piles of ash before they knew what hit them. As he watched, dividing his attention between the approaching ship and the husks, he saw the cargo ramp swing down to reveal the figure of a man attached to the ship with a safety line. _Kaidan._

The husks were beginning to find their feet. As he watched, one started loping toward them. The _Normandy_ was still a good twenty metres out, drifting closer. They had to go!

Shepard still had an iron grip on his wrist, however. She held him back. "Wait," she warned.

The husk was halfway to them now, and others were starting to follow. "Shepard…"

Kaidan flared blue, and the husk suddenly floated up off the ground, forward momentum gone.

Kaidan flared again, and Shepard yanked on his arm. "Go!" she shouted.

Together they sprinted for the balcony railing. Nathan twisted his hand around and gripped Shepard's forearm as he began to pull ahead. With one stride he leapt up onto the railing, pulling her with him, and _jumped._

_Ohshit ohshit ohshit ohshit…_

His stomach fell away as he launched into empty air, one hand clamped around Shepard's forearm, free arm reaching for the ship, legs moving as if to propel himself across the gap. There was a terrifying moment where he felt himself start to drop, and then they were surrounded by a field of blue biotic energy and _lifted_ up onto the solid waiting ramp.

Kaidan grabbed them and hauled them into the cargo hold proper, momentum sending them both crashing onto the deck. Kaidan quickly raised a hand to his ear. "Joker, they're in, let's go!"

Nathan lay back against the deck for a moment, breathing heavily and still holding tightly to Shepard as if she might fall if he let go. His heart hammered in his chest. He closed his eyes, willing the vertigo to go away.

Shepard laid her other hand over his, then gently pried his fingers loose, but she didn't move away. Instead, she slipped her small hand into his and held tight. The strength in her fingers grounded him, reminded him that they were okay. They weren't falling to their deaths just yet. They were safely on board the _Normandy_.

He opened his eyes and sat up, casting her a rueful smile. At the questioning look in her eyes, he nodded and squeezed her hand. "I'm okay." She gave him a small smile, holding tight to his hand, searching his eyes as if to make sure he meant it.

Finally, after holding his hand for what seemed like far longer than necessary, she let go and got to her feet. As the cargo bay ramp began to close Nathan's eyes were drawn to the building they had just jumped from, to the roof in particular. Now he understood why they hadn't been able to go that way.

It was covered in… monsters. Brown, glistening, bulbous bodies connected to spindly humanoid legs. Tall, armoured constructs with sickeningly turian-like fringes. More husks.

The tall constructs were herding husks and the other bulbous things down into the building. As he watched, they caught sight of the _Normandy_ and some of the larger monsters started firing in their direction.

They were too far away, though. The cargo ramp closed with a thump as the _Normandy_ shot up into the sky.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: I'm sticking to canon (mostly) for a couple of chapters but then things will start to diverge a bit more. Whenever I have to use a canon scene though, I deliberately don't look at the script, so it will usually play out a bit differently._

_Thank you so much to those who have favourited and followed, and especially those who have taken the time to review. You are wonderful and I love you all._

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

Shepard watched as the ramp finally closed, letting out a breath in relief. They had cut it _very _close getting off that platform, closer than she would have liked. The husks would probably have started to overwhelm them if they had stayed there for much longer.

They were very lucky the _Normandy_ had been in-system, and even luckier that Kaidan had happened to be on board. She slipped an arm around his shoulders in a friendly half-hug, then let him go. "Thanks for the save, Kaidan," she said.

"Any time, Shepard," he replied with an affectionate smile.

She glanced at Nathan, slumped against a nearby crate, and wondered how he was handling this. He had seen the massing Reaper forces as they left, she knew. She hadn't told him more about them on the ground after she had seen them herself because she hadn't wanted to overwhelm him right when they were running for their lives. Maybe he could have handled it; she didn't know. They had spent a lot of time together while she was locked up, but she didn't know him as a soldier yet. She knew nothing about his strengths and weaknesses in combat.

Nathan saw her watching him and visibly gathered himself together. He stood up and said, "I'm good, Commander."

She nodded. She hoped he wasn't just saying what he thought she wanted to hear. She had grown to like him a lot over the past five months and did want to make sure he was okay, but at the same time she needed a fully functioning soldier right now and she couldn't spare the time to coddle him. Neither of them could afford for him to fall apart.

She headed up into the ship at a jog, taking in the changes the Alliance had made as she went and mentally setting them aside for later. As she passed the armour and weapons lockers she grabbed a rag and quickly did her best to wipe some of the drying blood off her skin, then headed straight for the bridge. Kaidan and Nathan followed behind as she rode the elevator to the CIC and made her way past the galaxy map to the cockpit. The door separating it from the rest of the ship was new, but the cockpit itself was just as she remembered it.

Joker sat in the low-slung pilot's chair, fingers dancing across the holographic control surfaces of the _Normandy's_ piloting interface. Not wanting to distract him, she simply reached out and got a grip on the back of the pilot's chair, relishing the feel of the familiar leather beneath her fingers. Whenever they were about to try something risky with the _Normandy_, this was where she had always stood, watching over her irreverent genius pilot. Despite the circumstances, it was good to be back.

The sky whipped past outside the viewports as the _Normandy_ surged toward open space, breaking out of the atmosphere. Earth fell away quickly, replaced by the blackness of space and the panorama of a pitched space battle.

It was not a fair fight.

Dozens, _hundreds_ of Reaper vessels swarmed through high and low orbit, mercilessly falling on Earth's defenders, ripping the ships apart with deadly crimson plasma beams. Explosions littered the vista. Formations of cruisers and carriers with fighter support were picked off just as easily as lone frigates. Reaper drop ships hurtled toward the Earth below, trailing fire like meteors.

Shepard felt her fingers clench on the back of Joker's chair as she watched the dreadnought _Amadeus, _flagship of the Fourth Fleet, break into pieces as it succumbed to Reaper fire. Thousands of people crewed that ship. Thousands of people were dying as Joker threaded the _Normandy_ through the wreckage. Thousands of people vaporised, hundreds vented into cold space.

"Do we stay and help, Commander?" Joker asked, voice soft.

He knew the answer to that. Eyes on the stricken dreadnought as it broke apart, she forced herself to take a deep breath and told herself that she only _imagined _she couldn't breathe. "No," she replied. "Get us out of here, but stay in-system. I need to contact Command."

Command. _Shit_. Mentally she slapped her forehead in realisation. She had to sort that out before she went about issuing more orders.

Straightening, she turned to Kaidan, who along with Nathan had followed her into the cockpit. She had noticed the new rank pins attached to his collar back at Alliance HQ but hadn't had time to say anything. She saluted. "Major Alenko." Even had she still retained her rank, his Major outranked her Lieutenant Commander. He was the ranking officer aboard the ship. "Where do you need me?"

Kaidan looked positively alarmed at that. "Shepard, you're joking, right? Hell, things are crazy enough out there, I don't need you saluting me too. The _Normandy_ is _your_ ship. I don't care what rank you do or don't have," he protested.

She felt a wave of relief. If Kaidan had pressed the issue, she would have deferred to his rank and followed his orders but she wouldn't have liked it one bit. The _Normandy was_ her ship. She nodded curtly. "Joker?" she asked.

The pilot snorted. "As if you even have to ask," he replied.

She couldn't help a small smile. _My ship, my crew._ She had them back. She was out. She was free. She was home. "All right. How long until we can send a message through to Command? Do you know who's in charge out there?" she asked Joker, crouching down beside his seat.

"The comm chatter has all been pointing to Admiral Hackett. He escaped Arcturus with the Fifth and Third Fleets but the Second is dust. No idea where he is now," Joker told her. "Give me another… ten minutes and I'll have us safely tucked away somewhere quiet. Sam can try and contact him for you. All the comm buoys in the system are down but if anyone can do it, she can."

"Sam?" Shepard asked.

"Specialist Samantha Traynor," Joker explained. He glanced up at her. "When we left the docks we didn't have many crew members on board. Mainly techs. She's a tech. But EDI says she's good."

"Jeff is correct, Shepard," came the pleasant tones of EDI's voice over the ship-wide comm. "Specialist Traynor has been invaluable in testing a number of the _Normandy's_ systems."

Shepard nodded. "Thanks EDI, Joker. I'll go see her now. Kaidan, can you find Lieutenant Briggs somewhere to sleep?"

"Aye aye, ma'am," Kaidan acknowledged, and headed off into the ship with Nathan following. Before he left, Nathan met her eyes and she gave him a quick smile, trying to show him that she empathised with what he must be feeling. Being thrown headfirst into a battle he knew nothing about, fighting for his life, then ending up on a completely unfamiliar ship had to be hard to deal with if you weren't accustomed to having to deal with the unexpected.

She trailed behind them, watching Nathan's back and eying the new crew stations as she went. She finally took a good look at the upgraded CIC. Most things were only subtly different from the Cerberus fitout, but there were a couple of big changes that she noticed. For one, the old armoury, where Jacob used to work, was gone. For another, every crew member she could see wore an Alliance uniform. Inwardly she smiled proudly. For her, even if things had changed a little, it was like coming home.

She descended the steps into the CIC and made her way along beside the central display that housed the galaxy map. As she walked, each crew member snapped a salute in her direction, awaiting a nod before returning to work. She saw none of the hidden animosity she had seen at Alliance HQ in their eyes. No one here cared that she currently held no official rank, and they seemed to be giving her the benefit of the doubt when it came to the Aratoht incident. She felt a weight lift off her chest.

Standing at Yeoman Kelly Chambers' old station was a slight, dark-skinned woman with shoulder-length black hair. She came to attention as Shepard approached, saluting smartly. "Commander Shepard! I—it's an honour, Commander!" she stammered, looking strikingly similar to a deer in headlights, wide eyes and all.

Shepard returned her salute. "At ease. Specialist Traynor, I assume?"

"Yes, ma'am! Joker told me you're wanting to speak to Admiral Hackett, ma'am. If you like, I can show you the new comms room. The _Normandy_ was being refitted to act as Admiral Anderson's flagship, you know, so we have all sorts of helpful things installed. Like a Quantum Entanglement Communicator in the comms room! And we have a fully equipped war room as well, it's got—"

Shepard held up a hand with an amused smile. She liked this Traynor already. "Why don't you show me, Specialist?" she suggested.

"I—oh! Of course! I mean, aye aye, ma'am! I'm sorry, I'm new to this whole active duty thing." Traynor gestured toward the door that had once led to Mordin Solus' lab with an apologetic smile. "If you'll follow me?"

Shepard followed Traynor through a small room that appeared to be dedicated to the sole purpose of conducting physical security checks and into the war room, which did in fact look to be very well equipped. The Specialist continued with her cheerful stream of chatter as they rounded the war room and entered the small enclosed comm room. She set to work at one of the stations. "I'll just see if I can get that link to Admiral Hackett set up for you, ma'am, if Joker has found us a place to hide… ooh yes, he has! He's good, isn't he? There we go! Just hit that button when you're ready."

Shepard nodded. "Thank you, Specialist," she said in dismissal.

"You're most welcome, Commander!" Traynor replied, standing at ease and waiting expectantly.

"It might be best if I spoke to the Admiral in private," Shepard added gently when she didn't move.

Traynor's eyes widened. "Oh! I'm _sorry, _ma'am. Gosh, I'm an idiot. I'll leave you to it then." She saluted quickly and left in a hurry, a blush creeping up her face.

Shepard shook her head. As much as she liked the specialist, her lack of discipline reminded her that the _Normandy_ would need to pick up a proper crew at some point – with the kind of manoeuvres they would no doubt be pulling she would need the best. She hit the button Traynor had indicated and took a step back.

A holographic image of Admiral Hackett coalesced behind the terminal, fuzzy and distorted at its edges. "_Shepard! You got off Earth, then. I'm glad,"_ he said in greeting, metallic distortion playing through his voice.

She saluted. "Admiral. Barely. It's… hell down there, sir."

He eyed her bloody uniform. _"So I see." _He paused._ "Anderson didn't make it off."_ Her breath caught in her throat, but Hackett continued. _"He's holed up dirtside with a bunch of survivors. He thinks he can get a resistance movement up and running, fight dirty, use guerrilla tactics. I don't know how much good it'll do, but it's better than nothing."_

She let her breath go in relief. "I'm glad he's okay," she replied. "Admiral, I'm on board the _Normandy_ and I have a small ground team with me. I need orders."

The Admiral barked a laugh. _"That's the best news I've heard all day, Shepard. You'll also need to be reinstated. I'll see about sending that through. Along with a full pardon. Feel free to tell people exactly _why_ you destroyed that mass relay, by the way. The evidence that the Reapers exist is irrefutable now. In fact, I'll get PR on it, if there's anything left of them." _

"PR, sir?" she repeated dubiously.

"_Of course. The Alliance needs its greatest hero back in action, Shepard. Especially now."_

Shepard wrinkled her nose, wincing. "This again?" She remembered what it had been like in the six months after defeating Saren. She couldn't go anywhere public without people recognising her and coming up to her for one reason or another. And the ceremonies. God. The dress uniform. The parties. The politicians. She shuddered. She was glad to be reinstated and pardoned but she could do without having to be the Great Commander Shepard, War Hero and galactic celebrity again.

He sighed, and his tone changed. _"Every little bit will help. Shepard, we're in trouble."_

"How much trouble, sir? What condition are the fleets in?" Shepard asked with a sinking feeling.

"_We're sitting at about half-strength. Better than it could be, but still dire. We're going to need all the help we can get in this war."_

"Damn," she breathed. She felt a momentary flash of anger. If they had only listened to her sooner, they wouldn't be so far on the back foot.

"_Arcturus has been blown out of the sky,"_ he told her. She grimaced. _"We lost all the politicians and diplomats in residence at the time, which is close to all we had. A lot of our command structure was obliterated as well, and what little we have left I need on deck. I need someone to convince as many races as possible to help us fight the Reapers. You're a hero, Shepard, they'll listen to you."_

Shepard reached forward to grip the edge of the comm station. "But I'm not a diplomat, sir," she protested. "I'm a soldier. Give me a battle group, or even just a full ground team, and let me _fight_!"

The Admiral shook his head. _"No, Shepard. You're the best – probably the only – person left who can do this. If we don't get everyone united we'll be overrun. But I do need you to do one other thing first, before you head to the Citadel. Dr Liara T'Soni is on Mars, heading up a research team there, and she thinks she might have found something that'll help us win this war."_

Shepard pushed down her frustration. "What has she found?"

"_I don't know. Something big. We haven't been able to raise her since the Reapers attacked. We need her data, Shepard, whatever it is. You need to get to Mars now."_

"Aye aye, sir," she replied.

"_Keep me updated. Hackett out."_

She slapped the side of the comm station with an open palm as her frustration spilled over. Now that she was out of sight of the crew, out of sight of Hackett, she could allow herself the luxury of getting angry, even if just for a moment.

He was going to force her to be a _diplomat_? She knew her own strengths and although she was a capable leader of a small team, which required a touch of diplomacy sometimes, she was no negotiator. She certainly didn't see herself as capable of convincing entire species to join together in a war. Sure, she could be the Great Commander Shepard if the brass really thought it would help, but leaders of governments didn't even _like_ her very much, let alone go in for the whole hero thing. The Council was a case in point. Even though she had saved their asses by calling in the human fleet against Sovereign three years ago, they had forgotten all about that once they learned her resurrection had been brought about by Cerberus. They had treated her with disdain at best ever since.

She spun around and headed back toward the CIC. As she walked, she tilted her head to the ceiling, confident her voice would be picked up by the ship's internal comm system. "Joker, get us moving toward Mars," she ordered.

"_Yes, ma'am," _came the disembodied reply.

* * *

Nathan trailed Kaidan through the CIC, unable to help feeling a little intimidated. He didn't like the feeling. He was already trying to grasp the idea that Earth had just been invaded by giant starships with horrific mutations of humans as ground troops, and now he had to cope with the fact that he had just fought his way out of there with _Commander fucking Shepard_ and was standing on the _Normandy, _which was probably the most famous ship in the galaxy next to the _Destiny Ascension_. He felt as though his own little world of defending the galaxy from pirates and slavers in the Terminus systems had suddenly been revealed for the small-time, petty distraction it really was.

_God, Earth. Home._

He swallowed at the thought of his world burning. Overrun with a force he didn't understand, a force he had never even heard of before today. Sure, he had always wanted to leave the place and had never really held much attachment to it but that did _not _mean he wanted _this._

He felt totally and completely out of place on the _Normandy_. As they waited for the elevator he caught a glimpse of Shepard, uniform stained with ash, dirt and blood, striding through the CIC and was struck by how fiercely beautiful she looked. She was in her element in the battlefield. She _belonged_ in command, right where she was, aboard her ship. Even Major Alenko, who easily out-ranked her, knew it and deferred to her without a second thought.

Nathan had started to get comfortable in their roles of guard and prisoner, had begun to like her… a lot. He was definitely attracted to her. But… he had to grudgingly admit that her diminished status had made that a lot easier. When she was just another soldier stuck in the same place he was, he could relate to her.

Now, she was Commander Shepard again. The war hero, Saviour of the Citadel. Mass-murderer. She had said she had a reason for doing what she did to the Alpha Relay, and he believed her even if she couldn't tell him what it was, but that didn't change the fact that she was _capable _of making a decision like that. Nor that it had been necessary for her, in particular, to do so.

He didn't quite know how to handle this new reality, being at the absolute crux of events that were impacting the whole galaxy. He was nervous, and jittery with pent-up adrenaline after the escape from Earth.

Kaidan led him down to the crew deck and showed him the crew quarters, the mess and the med bay, then back into the elevator and all the way down to the cargo hold.

"… under-utilised in the Cerberus version of the SR-2 so the cargo bay was refitted to house a number of useful areas," Kaidan was explaining. "I know you probably didn't get a chance to have a good look when you came on board so I'll show you round. We've got the armoury here, and that's a weapons modding station. Lockers over there hold armour, weapons are over here. We'll have to get you set up with some of the spares until we have a chance to stop somewhere with an Alliance requisitions office." Kaidan made his way over to what looked like a small gym, where a man dressed in t-shirt and fatigues was dancing around a mat shadow-punching. "Vega!"

The soldier stopped and shook himself out. "Major, what's going on?" he demanded.

"I don't know, you'll have to ask the Commander. Lieutenant James Vega, this is Lieutenant Nathan Briggs. We picked him up along with Shepard."

Nathan extended a hand and Vega gripped it and shook. "Welcome aboard, _amigo_. You a marine?"

"Yeah, man," Nathan replied. "You too?"

"Yeah. I was assigned as security while the _Normandy_ was being refurbished," James told him. "I was on board when the Reapers hit. _Pendejos."_

"I'm… I _was _Shepard's personal guard back on Earth. We were in the situation room when it got torn up by a Reaper."

"Damn, lucky you made it out." Vega whistled. Nathan nodded, grimacing.

"Vega, Briggs is going to need some armour and weapons. What have we got?" Kaidan asked.

It took a few minutes but Nathan soon found himself kitted out with some of the spare heavy armour and a base model sniper rifle, assault rifle and a heavy pistol for a sidearm. Some of the pieces of armour were a bit small but they were able to stretch the plating out a bit and it did the job.

Vega eyed him critically. "Yeah, it'll work for now. Don't know when we'll be able to get some in your size."

"You expecting I'll need it soon?" Nathan asked.

"Don't know. Gotta be ready though. We've gotta be going back to Earth," Vega said with conviction.

Nathan glanced at Kaidan. They had both been on the flight deck when Shepard had ordered Joker to pull out of orbit. "Uh, I don't know—" he began, but before he could finish what he was going to say, the elevator opened and Commander Shepard strode out. Nathan snapped to attention, noticing that Vega and Kaidan did the same.

"At ease," Shepard waved them down. "Suit up. Full vacuum seals. We'll be at Mars in fifteen. We're retrieving data and extracting a scientist." Nathan heard Vega make a small surprised sound, but Shepard didn't notice. She looked at Kaidan. "It's Liara."

"Liara? What's she doing on Mars?" Kaidan asked. Nathan assumed 'Liara' was a mutual acquaintance of theirs.

"She's been researching the Prothean archives. Hackett thinks she's found something that could help us against the Reapers," Shepard explained.

"Wait, Commander, you mean we're not going back to Earth?" Vega interjected, voice rising in anger.

She turned sympathetic eyes on him. "No, we're not. We can't. There's—"

"But we can't just leave them!" he insisted. "They're killing people!"

"I know—"

"_Millions_ of people! They're turning them into those… those things! My family is down there… I need to be—"

"_Enough_!" Shepard's voice was a whip-crack through Vega's tirade. "Don't you think I would rather be down there too? We've got a job to do, Lieutenant!"

Nathan carefully kept his face blank, eyes forward. He would have preferred to be heading back down to Earth too but he had never heard her yell like that before and wasn't about to say so now.

She held eye contact with the big marine for a few more beats, then turned away, grabbing a pistol from the weapons bench, restlessly cocking it, then replacing it before speaking. "Lieutenant Briggs. What are your combat specialties?" she asked, all business.

He wasn't sure he wanted to be the focus of her attention right at the moment. "Weaponry, ma'am, with a bit of tech thrown in. I'm best with a heavy pistol or an assault rifle but I can handle a sniper rifle if I have to. My tech isn't that great, but I can overload and I'm a decent hacker," he told her.

She nodded, and turned her attention to Vega. "And you, Lieutenant…?" she trailed off, prompting him for a name.

"Vega, ma'am," he told her grudgingly. "James Vega. I'm a soldier too. Put me out front and give me the heavy weapons. I've got extra shield strength, proficient with shotguns and assault rifles. I like to get up close and shoot 'em right in the face."

"Right. Get suited up, all of you." She put actions to words, heading over to the armour locker. Kaidan and Vega followed suit, but Nathan was already kitted out and ready. Instead he headed over to the modding station, pulled out his assault rifle and flicked the lever to extend it into shape. It clicked into place with a whir and he laid it on the table, then started searching through the available mods. He figured he had at least ten minutes, so he could put it to good use making his weapons as deadly as possible.

He had always had a thing for modding. There was just something about being able to tweak the performance of a weapon beyond what it was supposed to be capable of doing that he found satisfying, and relaxing. God, did he need to relax. His nerves were going haywire at the thought of deploying on a ground team with Shepard. He had known her for six months now but always as 'Shepard', never as the Commander. He had heard the stories, knew she was supposed to be very, very good, but there was a difference between knowing about something and actually being a part of it. He quickly removed the barrel casing and set to work, fingers moving with a sure grace.

It didn't take him long – he had done this particular modification more than a few times. It would give him a touch more stability when aiming. As he was snapping the casing back into place and cocking the rifle experimentally, Joker's voice came over the comm with a five minute warning. He hit the catch to snap the weapon back into its compact form and slid it back into place over his shoulder.

"Vega, Briggs, either of you have experience piloting a Kodiak?" Shepard asked. She was pulling the last strap of her gauntlets into place, giving it a good yank then deftly snapping the catches into place with expert fingers. She seemed to have had trouble locating armour that fit her, just as he had, no doubt because she was a fair bit smaller than the average marine. She had found medium arm, leg and shoulder plating, but the rest appeared to be heavy armour. It was all tightly strapped into place, but even so some of the various pieces were almost scraping against one another. It wasn't all one colour, either. The breastplate was bright Alliance blue, as were the leg plates, but boots, gauntlets, helmet and shoulder armour were all red.

He wanted to laugh at how ridiculous it looked, but he knew that was the nerves talking. He decided now would probably not be the best time to start making fun of his commanding officer. She was clearly not in a joking mood. Instead he replied, "I do, ma'am."

"Good. You're our pilot. Into the shuttle, everyone."

Taking a deep breath, he gripped his helmet tightly and headed for the shuttle.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Thanks to VorchaGirl for her beta work. All remaining errors are mine. Thanks to those who have favourited and followed too, I love it when I see a new one pop up!_

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

Shepard slipped her helmet on and snapped it into place on her collar guard as the shuttle came in to land. She spared a moment to double-check her helmet seals again, just in case. She had already checked them over before selecting this particular helmet from the few in the armoury locker, but she told herself there was no harm in checking it again. She managed to stop herself from reaching for the back of the collar guard, where the hose that had ruptured and killed her over Alchera would have been located. This particular hardsuit didn't even have a hose; it had been designed with pressure seals instead. Mentally she grimaced at the impulse. She hadn't felt the need to check her helmet seals in a long time, but the stress of the current mission was clearly getting to her.

The helmet was too big for her, as was most of the rest of her armour, but she had managed to get it all strapped down enough for it to do the job it was supposed to do. The medium armour weighed a little less than she was used to, but combined with the mismatched pieces of heavy armour the weight issue evened itself out well enough. That was another thing she would need to sort out – a new hardsuit. She doubted she would be able to get hold of her old armour.

The pressurisation indicator light over the door flicked from red to green as Nathan set the shuttle down and opened the hatch. A wave of dust swept in as she jumped out, boots landing with a thump on the tightly packed red soil below. The wind buffeted her as she lifted her assault rifle smoothly from its folded position on her back and brought it up, expanded and ready. She scanned the landing zone, methodically picking out possible cover and choke points, but nothing moved.

"Check that out, Commander," Kaidan's voice came over her suit comm, tinny but clear, as he stepped out behind her. "Dust storm."

She glanced over in the direction he was pointing. There was a dust storm on its way, all right. An impressive one. It billowed up over the horizon and stretched kilometres in either direction. They would have to be off world by the time it got here. "Let's go. Vega, Briggs, on my flanks. Alenko, on our six," she ordered. "Move out."

She headed down the rocky path toward the research base below, keeping a sharp eye out for movement. It wasn't until she rounded a corner and almost ran headlong into an armoured figure that she saw anything.

In the space of a heartbeat, she took in the white armour, yellow and black insignia and weapon being brought to bear. A quick burst from her rifle, and he was down.

_Shit! _How had she allowed herself to be surprised like that? She scanned quickly for other hostiles. She hadn't expected there to be any contacts this far out from the base, but she should have planned for the possibility. Clearly it wasn't just hand-to-hand where she was a bit out of practice. She clenched her teeth. She couldn't afford to be out of practice.

She saw no other threats. Kaidan confirmed the all clear a moment later.

She shifted the rifle to one hand and crouched down before the fallen Cerberus soldier. If he was a sentry – and he almost certainly was, being out on his own so far from the base – he would have a radio. Luckily she hadn't had time to line up a head shot, so his helmet was intact. She started trying to pull it off.

"What are Cerberus doing on Mars?" Kaidan wondered in her general direction. It sounded suspiciously like he was asking her.

_This again? _She stifled a sigh. "How should I know, Kaidan?" she replied, hearing the resignation in her voice as she spoke. She still considered him to be one of her closest friends even after he had flat out accused her of being a traitor on Horizon. Sometimes she wasn't sure why.

She knew it must have been hard for him to deal with seeing her again after he had buried her two years prior. She didn't begrudge him a little suspicion, but that was almost a year ago now. He had apologised to her afterward and she thought he had moved on. _I guess not._

She had intended her reply to be rhetorical but he didn't take it as such. "You _were _working for them, Shepard," he responded, his voice growing taut.

He wanted to do this now? In the middle of a mission?"I didn't have much choice in the matter," she said shortly. She grunted as the helmet finally gave way, coming off the dead soldier's head with a jerk.

"Woah, what the fuck?" Vega whispered.

She rocked back on her heels, staring back at the lifeless ice-blue pits of what were once eyes. The face was human, but creased with black bruises. Blue veins stood out in stark relief against pale, almost translucent skin.

He… it… the thing looked like a husk.

* * *

Nathan was still feeling a bit restless after the escape from Earth but at least now his left over adrenaline was being put to good use, being on the ground team. His nerves, however, had only gotten worse now that he was on a real mission with Shepard. He knew the only reason he was here at all was because he happened to be with her when she was rescued from Earth, but now he was here he badly wanted to prove he deserved to be.

Nathan swallowed when Shepard pulled the Cerberus trooper's helmet off, making a valiant effort to avoid throwing up into his helmet. "It looks like those things… husks… we saw back on Earth," he murmured. "Holy shit."

"Mm." Shepard muttered. She was quiet for a moment, taking it in. "I want to know what the hell this thing is doing in a Cerberus uniform." She tossed the helmet at Nathan. He fumbled with it in revulsion and almost dropped it before getting a hold on it. How was she so okay with this? "See if you can get the radio out of that."

He took a breath, very much not wanting to touch the thing after it had been on the head of that husk, but he got to work, prying the inner lining out and digging at the wiring underneath while the others kept watch on their surroundings. He kept one eye on Shepard as he worked, wondering about what Major Alenko had said earlier. She had worked for Cerberus?

He had heard of Cerberus, but could have sworn they were some sort of terrorist organisation. He had vague memories of hearing a news report about the involvement of Cerberus in an attack on a turian base using a bioweapon of some sort. There had been no survivors, and if he recalled correctly the deaths had been gruesome. They didn't seem like the sort of people someone like Commander Shepard would willingly freelance for.

But then again… she had taken three hundred thousand lives because she had decided it was the lesser of two evils. He still didn't know what the greater evil was, but perhaps it was the same sort of situation with Cerberus?

Alenko didn't appear to have accepted her answer to his question from before. "Shepard, I need a straight answer from you. You never told me anything about what happened back then, when you were working for these," he waved a hand at the dead soldier, "assholes. Are you still working for them or not?"

Shepard stood up and whirled on him, anger palpable. She didn't raise her voice, but her words were all the more vehement because of it. "I _did_ tell you what happened, Kaidan. They rebuilt me after I died and gave me my ship back. But that was _all. I _recruited my crew and _I _was in command."

Wait a second, rebuilt her after she _died? _Nathan exchanged a surprised glance with Lieutenant Vega, who raised an eyebrow. Nathan felt a stab of worry. Had she hit her head somewhere during their escape from Earth?

Kaidan wasn't done, and he didn't appear to think she was delusional. "Oh, sure, they let you believe that. But where did your funding come from, huh? And who told you where to hit next? You followed the Illusive Man's orders every time!"

"I didn't just follow…" she began, but to his surprise she trailed off, brow creased with uncertainty. Nathan could see Shepard's eyes through her faceplate. The anger was still there, but it was now warring with doubt. It was the first time he had ever seen her tongue-tied.

Alenko was quick to take advantage, advancing on her and pointing an accusing finger squarely at her chest. "How do we know you haven't been in contact with the Illusive Man this whole time? How do we know you're not still following his orders and leading us into a trap?" he demanded.

Woah, that was way out of line. And it made no sense! Before he really knew what he was doing, Nathan spoke up. "Hey! She had no comms access at all for the last six months, Major. She couldn't have been talking with anyone," he protested.

They both looked surprised to hear him speak up, and he felt for a moment as if he had intruded somewhere private. Almost as if he had walked in on a lovers' quarrel.

Was it? A lovers' quarrel? That would make an awful lot of sense. The hug she had given him after he pulled them off Earth, the familiarity between them, and now he seemed overly upset about this Cerberus thing. Alenko even sounded… betrayed.

Nathan found himself disliking the idea that the two of them were together. Intensely. He ducked his head and returned his focus to his work, keeping just the one unobtrusive eye on the two of them.

They looked at one another for a long second, before Kaidan spoke. "Fine. All right. We've got work to do."

Shepard's eyes flashed, but she let it go. She turned her expectant gaze on Nathan instead. "Briggs? Are you done?"

He had just finished pulling out the helmet radio. "Here, Commander," he said, handing it to her and tossing the helmet gladly on the ground.

She took it roughly and stuffed it into a pocket of her hardsuit. "EDI, come in."

"_I read you, Commander Shepard," _came the response over his helmet comm, interspersed with static. He hadn't been introduced to an Edie. The voice sounded slightly robotic. He assumed it was the shipboard VI.

"I need a side entrance of some sort. We have hostiles here, I don't want to walk straight up to the front door."

"_There is an emergency hatch approximately two hundred metres west of the main entrance, opening into the ventilation system's maintenance section. My records show that it was rarely used, but it _is _present on the base's schematics. You will likely experience resistance."_

"Right. Put it on my HUD. Thanks, EDI." She raised her rifle. "Let's go."

Nathan fell in on her right flank as she deviated from the main path, moving carefully over the rocky landscape. The path she chose was narrow at times, sometimes forcing them to move in single file as they picked their way past rocky outcroppings, but they didn't run into any more Cerberus troops. The terrain would have been treacherous to exposed human limbs, but their armour protected them sufficiently. Nathan's armour collected a multitude of dents and scratches along the way.

Finally they reached the hatch, a simple mechanical affair supplemented with an access panel. Shepard motioned him forward and he examined it. "Looks easy, ma'am, should only take a minute or so to crack. The door will open automatically," he advised.

"Vega, up front," she ordered, taking a step back. Nathan approved of her choice for point man. The other Lieutenant was a _tank, _all muscle and firepower, and the hatch was narrow, with room only for one person to go through at a time. Vega stepped forward and took up a position to the side of the hatch, powering up his extra layer of shields. Nathan got to work.

Forty seconds later, he was done. The hatch cracked open with a hiss of hydraulics. Vega cleared the airlock, then stepped inside. Shepard followed and Nathan brought up the rear, behind Kaidan. Nathan sealed the outer hatch and started the pressurisation cycle.

It didn't take long before the cycle finished, and the light above the inner door turned to green. Once again Vega went through first, sweeping the room for hostiles. "Clear," he said.

The rest of the team filed into the room. Shepard collapsed her rifle and snapped it into place on her back, then removed her helmet. She triggered its collapse too, which converted it neatly into a rectangular, arced armour plate just big enough to mag-lock into place around her outer thigh. Nathan followed suit, grateful for the cool recycled air that brushed his face.

"Now, let's see what they're up to," Shepard muttered as she took out the radio he had pried out of the Cerberus trooper's helmet. She fiddled with it for a bit before seeming satisfied, then started pacing as she waited for something to come through, clutching it in one hand. Vega had taken up position at the doorway to the next room. Kaidan found a convenient patch of wall to lean against. Nathan located his own patch of wall and crossed his arms over his chest.

The lack of contact with hostiles aside from the single trooper-turned-husk was getting to him. Getting off Earth had been about survival, but now he had a full set of armour and his guns strapped to his back he wanted some payback. He didn't know what Cerberus was doing here, nor even really much about them, but if they were using husks to do their dirty work they had to be in league with the Reapers. And that meant they were fair game.

He flexed his fingers. He needed to shoot something, to feel the kickback of his rifle as bullets tore into his target. If Reaper troops were that target, it would make his day, but Cerberus half-husks would do the job too.

After a few minutes, a voice issued from the tiny speaker in Shepard's hand. She stopped pacing to listen.

"_Sound off."_

"_Alpha team_ _in position."_

"_Beta is clear."_

"_Delta has no contacts."_

"_This is Echo, no sign of her here either."_

"_This is Lead. Ensure she is prevented from accessing the archives. Lock down the ped-way."_

"'Her'," Kaidan muttered, displaying no sign of his previous hostility. "Think that's Liara?"

"Wouldn't put it past her," Shepard agreed. Her voice was completely professional too. Nathan was impressed. "Sounds like Cerberus have made it to the archives already, if they're locking down access routes. We need to move faster." She clipped the Cerberus radio to her collar and brought up her omnitool, studying a map of the archives compound and the maintenance section specifically for a moment. "It's a pretty tight fit in this section, lots of narrow corridors. Doesn't seem to open up until the ped-way station. Briggs, get back to the shuttle. I want a smaller team for the moment."

Nathan stared at her in dismay. _No way. _"Shep… I mean, Commander—"

"_Now, _Lieutenant. I want the shuttle ready to go. We may need to get out of here fast."

He stared at her, but her tone left no room for argument and her eyes were hard as they met his. "Yes ma'am," he bit out. He put his helmet back on as he watched them move into the next room, then trudged back into the airlock and set it cycling again.

_Dammit_. He had to guard the bloody shuttle? He slammed an armoured fist into the wall. _Fuck._

Twenty minutes later, he was back in the shuttle and in the pilot's seat. He had closed the hatch and powered up, but hadn't taken off. By now the dust storm was getting close enough to start fouling up sensor readings, and there was a nice big cliff to block any visual scans, so he figured he would be safe enough for the moment.

He slouched in his seat, keeping an ear to the comm while he waited for the extraction order. Despite his anger he found it fascinating listening in to the ground team's movements. Commander Shepard's voice never wavered as she directed her team, cool, crisp, and confident. It was very different from his own command style… it was drier and more measured, but compelling. He wanted to be part of it, rather than stuck sitting in the shuttle doing nothing.

"_Alenko, two o'clock. Warp." _He heard the throaty retort of an assault rifle, then the radio went silent for a couple of heartbeats.

"_Vega, eleven, suppress."_

Silent again.

"_Liara, one, singularity." _Liara. They must have found her. _"Alenko, warp." _The vague, tinny sound of an explosion echoed through the comm.

"_Vega, cover me."_

Silence.

This time the silence stretched out for a while. He crossed his arms and forced his foot to stop tapping restlessly on the deck.

"_Ped-way's no good, Commander. I can't unlock it." _A new feminine voice… Liara.

"_Alternatives?"_

"_Those metal supports look pretty wide… we could get across on top of the tunnel. Like a bridge." _Alenko.

Nathan took a look out the shuttle's viewport in the direction of the ped-way, which was encased in a long oblong tube. It was wrapped in a lattice of beams, but he couldn't tell from this distance what those beams were made of or how strong they were.

"_Good idea. Liara, your boots have mag-locks?"_

"_Yes, Shepard. There's a maintenance access point one level up. I'll get us there."_

"_Let's go."_

Silence again. Then, he could just barely see four figures in armour hurrying across the top of the ped-way, ducking low against the wind and taking halting steps to allow each boot to magnetise one after the other as they moved. He spotted muzzle flashes below, but the tunnel had been reinforced against the volatile Martian atmosphere and the shots didn't penetrate its walls.

"…_ready… resistance… door. Vega, point… you can… Alenko… flanking…"_

The signal was starting to decay, no doubt courtesy of the approaching dust storm. Grumbling, Nathan set to work on the comm panel, trying to boost it. The shuttle was a newer model but it wasn't the dash-B. That model had a bunch of upgraded tech. This one didn't. It took him a good ten minutes to get the signal back.

"… _on her now! She can't escape!"_

He jumped at the raised volume. Shepard was practically yelling into the radio. It was a marked difference from her previous measured commands. He scrambled back into the pilot seat, listening closely.

"_Cut her off! Alenko, flank!" _The sound of gunfire, then a weighty pause.

"_Dammit! She's heading for the roof! _Normandy_, get down here now!"_

Although he was sure the _Normandy_ probably had much better comm scrubber tech than he did and would have definitely heard the call, he was a hell of a lot closer than they were. The single mass accelerator cannon on the shuttle's bow meant he could provide limited air support until they got here. Nathan slapped the panel in front of him, bringing up the haptic interface. He got the shuttle lifting off with one hand while he shrugged into his restraints with the other.

He swung the shuttle's nose ponderously over towards the second half of the base and opened the thrusters, sending the boxy craft shooting out over the rocky plains below. He angled up and sailed over the ped-way, rising up over the roof's horizontal plane and swinging around to orbit at a few hundred metres. On the opposite side of the roof to where he was, he spotted another shuttle, this one painted in yellow, black and white. It was coming in for a hot landing, hatch swinging open.

A figure darted across the roof, moving faster than he would have thought possible considering the obstacles in its path. It – she? – swung around and fired a spray of bullets behind her, and Nathan spotted the distinctive red and blue mismatched armour of her pursuer, moving quickly but not _quite _fast enough to catch up. Shepard skidded into cover behind an air duct, then sprang back up and vaulted over it, sprinting after the fleeing woman.

Nathan opened up with the cannon, aiming for the shuttle, _anywhere_ on the shuttle, trying to disable it or prevent it from taking off, or _something_. He hadn't had time to aim properly, though, and his shots went wide, scoring the roof instead. Swearing, he swung up high and around again, ready for a second run.

He spotted Shepard, feet planted, unleashing a hail of fire on the shuttle and the woman jumping into it. As he watched, the shuttle began to lift. He fired the cannon again, but had to aim wide this time so he didn't risk hitting Shepard on the roof below. The shuttle continued to lift, ignoring his fire completely.

"_She's got the data!" _The comm distorted, trying to adjust for the volume of the Commander's voice. "_She can't get away! Briggs! _Normandy! _Anyone_!"

_Fuck it, if I can just... _Midway through his strafing run, about to turn out and away to try and angle in on the escaping shuttle's tail, he changed his mind. With a wrench of the controls, he flung the Kodiak down on an intercept course. If he could get in its way, he could force it down, and if it didn't stop, well…

The two shuttles collided with a shriek of rending metal. The Kodiak rebounded flatly off to the side of the other shuttle, spinning around and catching on another of those air ducts. Nathan was thrown hard against his restraints and wrenched to the side, shoulder twisting and knee slamming into the panel before him. The Cerberus shuttle crunched into the roof and skidded back towards where Shepard had been standing. Nathan felt a flash of panic, but he spotted her red and blue armour as she ducked in under cover just in time. The Cerberus shuttle burst into flames.

He sat back gingerly, wincing as he tried to move his shoulder. He took a deep breath as a smile spread across his face despite the pain. _Fuck yes! _He fumbled with his restraints one-handed, shaking from adrenaline. A bubble of laughter escaped his lips. Finally he managed to get the straps undone and stood up on shaky legs, clutching his injured arm to his chest. His knee was painful but didn't feel broken.

Shepard burst into the shuttle and his laughter died. The expression on her face was _murderous. _He quailed, good arm gripping the back of the pilot's seat, trying to hold himself up as his knee rebelled.

She didn't say anything to him though, just ducked in under his arm and slung it across her shoulders, half-carrying him out of the shuttle. "_Normandy_, we need extraction at my location," she spoke into her comm, voice cool and rigidly controlled once more.

Alenko was trying to get in closer to the burning Cerberus shuttle to retrieve the data while Vega ran into the Kodiak and came out with a portable fire extinguisher. Shepard eased Nathan down to the ground.

With no warning, the woman Shepard had been chasing strode out of the shuttle, shrugging the flames away as if they were nothing but a nuisance. She wore a red visor and an angular hair style – too angular to be real hair. Her whole body gleamed a dull silver. She had to be entirely synthetic, though Nathan had never seen a mech that looked like her before.

She advanced on Kaidan, who raised his weapon, but she moved too quickly and his shot went wide. She grasped the chin of his helmet and hoisted him into the air, grabbing his gun with her other hand and tossing it across the roof.

Shepard had her weapon raised and aimed in a flash. "Let him go," she called, sighting down the barrel, legs braced and ready to fire. Nathan fumbled for his sidearm, awkwardly trying to draw it with his uninjured arm.

The woman didn't move, other than to raise a hand to her ear. She seemed to be having no problems holding Kaidan half a metre off the ground, despite his struggles. Though the man wasn't quite as built as James Vega or even Nathan himself, he wasn't small either.

"Let him go _now,_" Shepard tried again, voice hard. She fired a warning shot into the roof. Off to one side, Nathan spotted an asari – Liara? – standing ready, one arm raised but still, awaiting the Commander's cue. Blue biotic flares flickered down her sides.

In one fluid move, the synthetic woman lowered her hand and spun, almost gracefully, hurling Kaidan bodily against the hull of the shuttle. His helmeted head slammed once, twice into the burning metal, leaving a shallow dent. She dropped him and he slumped bonelessly to the ground. Then she charged at Shepard.

Before he had fallen halfway, Shepard was firing. Coolly, professionally, she poured rounds into the synthetic until it dropped in a tangle of limbs. As soon as it was down, Shepard dropped her rifle and sprinted for Kaidan. Nathan could barely see him from where he sat, but he could tell the Major wasn't moving. With a sinking feeling, he watched Shepard crouch down and carefully lift him, slinging him over her shoulders. The mech had bashed the man's head into a solid object, his chances of walking away from that weren't good. Even with his helmet on.

"_Ground team, this is _Normandy. _We've got Reapers inbound," _Joker's voice came over the comm in Nathan's helmet.

He struggled to his feet, looking up as the _Normandy_ sailed in over the roof. Joker lowered the ship smoothly, thrusters humming, presenting the open cargo bay ramp. Shepard was already jogging toward the _Normandy_. She lifted Kaidan's unconscious form up onto the ramp then hopped up behind him, picking him up again and hurrying into the ship.

Vega had collected the body of the synthetic woman and followed Shepard. Liara was heading for Nathan himself. She took his good arm and urged him to lean on her. Together they ran for the ramp and she helped him up into the ship. They both backed up off the ramp and watched as it closed on the burning Cerberus shuttle below.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: I'd like to take a moment to assure you all that Starbrat will _not _be in this fic._

_Thank you to VorchaGirl for her beta work._

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

Shepard leant heavily on the comm station while she waited for Admiral Hackett to appear. She had dropped Kaidan off in the medbay, doing her best not to dwell on his bruised and bloody face. Liara had shooed her out immediately, expression leaving no room for argument, and Shepard had left reluctantly. She wished fervently for Dr Chakwas' presence. No one on board the Normandy had anything like the medical knowledge that would be required to help Kaidan. She knew it and Liara knew it, which made Liara's decision to take responsibility for his care all the more brave. If he died…

She turned, pacing the room, unable to stand still. She didn't want to think about the possibility, but _if_ he died, Liara would feel responsible.

Well, that would make two of them. _If my aim had been as good as it usually is I could have taken Dr Core out before she got anywhere near that shuttle. _

If she had been on top of her game, none of this would have happened. She was rusty from her months of incarceration, and her gun hand was still sore from the other night in her room with Nathan. She hadn't had a spare moment to apply medigel… or, she supposed more accurately, she hadn't thought to _make_ the time for it. It would have been so easy to fix and it could have cost them-

"_Shepard?"_

She spun around. The QEC had finally connected with Hackett and she hadn't noticed. "Sir," she saluted. "Sorry, sir. I'm here."

"_Good." _His tone was impatient. He sounded harried. "_What do you have for me?"_

"We got the data, sir, and Dr T'Soni is confident it will provide the key to defeating the Reapers." The mission _had_ been a success overall. That was something.

She felt a light touch on her shoulder, and turned to see Liara had come to join her. The lines around the asari's expressive blue eyes were slightly more pronounced than usual, betraying the strain she was under. She spoke directly to Hackett. "The data contains a blueprint, Admiral. It is a set of instructions for creating a massive weapon, capable of unheard of destruction. The sole purpose of this weapon seems to be to destroy Reapers."

"_The Protheans designed this weapon?"_

"Yes. They built it, but were not able to complete its construction before they were wiped out."

"_So it was never tested? How do you know it will work?"_

"I… _don't_ know. I cannot be sure," Liara admitted. "I know that the Protheans thought it would work, if only by virtue of the fact that building it would have been such a monumental expense that they wouldn't have done so if it wasn't going to work. The notes talk about one missing component – something they called the Catalyst. They appear quite certain that if they had been able to obtain this Catalyst, the weapon would work."

Liara hadn't mentioned this before. "Catalyst? Do you know what that is?" Shepard asked.

Liara shook her head. "I do not. The Protheans who left this data for us did not know themselves. I suspect the knowledge was disseminated amongst various groups so as to guard against the possibility of indoctrination."

"_You need to find it, Shepard," _Hackett ordered. "_We're going to need to build this thing, this…"_

"Crucible," Liara supplied.

"… _Crucible." _Hackett tested the name and appeared to find it suitable. _"We'll need to build this Crucible, and fast. I'll need scientists, engineers, ships, materials. Credits. Anything you can find me. But we can't rely on it. We need a backup plan. That's where the army you're going to build comes in, Shepard. I'll do what I can from here, but you need to get on that. Make it your top priority."_

_Jesus, _she thought. _Anything else? _Even in her mind, the flippant comment fell flat. The enormity of what he wanted her to do…

She saluted mechanically. "Aye aye, sir."

"_Is that all?"_

She shook her head grimly. "No. Cerberus was there. The Illusive Man even put in an appearance via holocomm."

"_Hmm." _Hackett rubbed his chin. _"Any idea what he was after?"_

"He wants to find a way to take control of the Reapers, sir. He thinks the data from Mars will help him do that."

Hackett sighed. "_Control the Reapers? Of all the stupid… All right. I'll get Alliance Intel on that data. I want to know what he'll find. Keep me updated. Hackett out."_

The hologram faded away, leaving a blank wall behind it. Shepard stared at the wall, thoughts churning. As ominous as the idea of The Illusive Man trying to control the Reapers was by itself, he had said something more to her that had set her internal warning bells ringing. He had seemed to go out of his way to make it clear that she, personally, was no longer important.

From anyone else, she would have brushed it off as bravado, or even meaningless words to drag out a conversation that was clearly engineered to be a distraction. But from the Illusive Man…

She had to consider meanings behind meanings. She was well aware that he had been furious after she stole the _Normandy_. The comment could have been a dig at her personally, a glimmer of his own anger at her defiance slipping out from beneath his usual façade, but she doubted it. The Illusive Man had never displayed such a lack of self-control.

No, a more likely scenario was that the opposite was true. He still considered her to be vitally important in some way, either to him or to something he was planning, and he wanted to throw her off the scent. The man had poured four billion credits into resurrecting her from the dead because he had considered her too valuable to leave that way. She didn't think for a second that he wouldn't at the very least try and recoup his losses somehow, when it came to her. She would have to keep her guard up.

It was time to get going. Time to get to work on building this army Hackett wanted.

_He wanted her to build a goddamn army!_

She shook her head. "Joker, get us moving to the Citadel," she ordered, striding out of the comm room with Liara.

* * *

Nathan limped into the ship's mess, favouring his bruised knee and keeping his injured arm close to his stomach. The medigel his armour had dispensed had worn off a little while ago, leaving his injuries sore and wearing at his temper, so he was glad the place was empty at the moment. He glanced over at the medbay. The windows were darkened. He assumed Liara was still working on Kaidan inside. All he really needed were some decent painkillers and a scan to make sure his shoulder wasn't dislocated, but he knew his injuries were much lower in priority than Kaidan's and didn't want to barge into the medbay for something so comparatively trivial.

He had enlisted Vega's help to remove his armour and skin suit, which was both necessary and far too awkward for either of them to be particularly comfortable with, and had then managed to drag himself into the showers on the crew deck. It had taken no small amount of effort, but he had scrubbed off most of the dust and grime and even managed to give his hair a cursory wash. Dressing was… a bit more of an endeavour. He had managed his blue and white undershirt okay – painful as it had been – but hadn't been able to get his uniform pants zipped and buttoned. There was no way in blue hell he was going to ask for Vega's help with _that. _And his belt was a total lost cause. After a while he had given up and threw on a spare pair of shorts with an elastic waistband that one of the crew had been kind enough to lend him.

Now he rummaged through the cupboards, damp hair spiking up in all directions, searching for something he could manage to prepare and eat with one hand. There were precious little in the way of supplies on board, which wasn't surprising considering the _Normandy_ had been in drydock until a few hours ago. After going through almost every cupboard he found a stack of ration bars, although considering they had probably been sitting there since before Shepard had turned herself and her ship in to the Alliance he wasn't sure if that was better than finding nothing at all.

He pulled a couple of bars out of the cupboard and took them over to one of the tables. He sat down and grabbed one of them, then set to work trying to get the strong plastic wrapper off. He tried holding it in the hand on his injured side and pulling the plastic with his other hand, but it was irritatingly stubborn and he only succeeded in wrenching his shoulder.

He gritted his teeth and fumed silently. He wouldn't be in this position if Shepard hadn't sent him back to guard the shuttle. Because of that, he had been the only thing available to prevent Cerberus from getting away. He had pulled it off the only way he could think of to do it, which had resulted in his injuries.

Why had she been so angry with him when she pulled him out of the shuttle? It made no sense!

The fact that she had been angry only made _him_ angrier. He could handle being reprimanded by a superior, but only if he had actually done something to deserve it. He had saved data vital to the war! He had stopped the mission from being a total failure!

After the pain had muted somewhat he swapped hands and was about to try again when he heard the elevator doors open. The muffled thump of armoured boots in a measured stride rang out on the deck, and Shepard rounded the corner.

He looked up, unable to completely suppress a glare as his shoulder and knee throbbed with a dull, persistent pain. She was still wearing her borrowed armour, collapsed red helmet clamped to the blue plating covering her thigh, guns still on her back. Tendrils of auburn hair had come loose and were stuck to her cheeks and forehead with dried sweat. Somehow she had managed to get a smudge of red Martian dirt on her forehead. The armour really did look ridiculous, like a costume from an old twenty-first century comic book. The chest piece she had found was way too big for her. Her chin just managed to clear the collar guard.

The fact that she looked completely adorable only made him angrier.

Her eyes narrowed as she spotted him. "On your feet, Lieutenant," she ordered, striding over.

_Fuck. _He obeyed, trying to do his best impression of standing at attention while attempting to not move his arm or put his weight on his knee too much. It didn't work very well. He supposed he cut a pitiful figure in his borrowed shorts, undershirt and bare feet.

Her eyes flicked over his awkward stance and she sighed. "You look like hell. Come on," she said. She spun around and headed for the medbay.

What was she…? Having no choice, he followed her warily through the doors. His eyes fell on the still form of Major Alenko. He was breathing, but only barely. Dr T'Soni was nowhere in evidence, but the Major was hooked up to an IV and appeared more or less to be sleeping peacefully.

Shepard glanced over for a moment, face unreadable, but didn't stop for a closer look. She led him to one of the other beds and indicated for him to sit. She rummaged through one of the cabinets and pulled out a tube of medigel. She must have realised he hadn't taken care of his injuries yet. Grudgingly he felt a stab of gratitude. "Shirt off," she directed.

He blinked. There was a joke there, he knew it, something about waiting for a long time to hear her say that, but he was too grumpy and sore to make the effort. The thought of lifting his arm again to try and remove his shirt, and then having to lift the arm once more to put the shirt back on again, made him turn green. "Uh… is there any way we can work around the shirt?" he asked in a pained voice.

She looked at him with a critical eye. "I'm sure I can manage."

Wait, what? _She _could manage? She wasn't just going to hand him the medigel and tell him to get on with it?

She pulled her gauntlets off and squirted a liberal amount of medigel onto her palms. Then without preamble she moved in close and ran one hand up his bicep and under his sleeve. The other she slid under the neck of his shirt from his collarbone. Using both hands, she massaged the gel into his skin.

Nathan closed his eyes for a moment. _Oh God._ Her hands were firm, but gentle, and warm on his skin. When he opened his eyes she was standing so close that he could see where beads of sweat had dried in the red dirt on her forehead. Her armoured leg was almost touching his. There was nothing in her expression or her stance to indicate that she was being anything but completely professional, a fellow soldier helping another out, but that didn't seem to matter to his treacherous brain. As the pain in his shoulder receded, tingles began spreading from the top of his head, down through his stomach, and… _goddammit, brain, I'm really pissed off with her right now, this isn't the time…_

He looked away quickly, and his eyes fell on Major Alenko's still form. That quickly solved the growing problem. Major Alenko had almost _died _down there on Mars and was now lying still on a medbay bed. Fuck sake, there was a war going on. Earth was under attack by monsters that looked like they had come straight from one of those old B-grade twentieth century horror movies. He had more important things to think about than getting all worked up over his bloody _commanding officer. _Especially now, when he was still furious with her.

When she moved on to his knee, crouching to give herself a better angle, he _almost _threw that whole train of thought out the window.

Finally she finished up and he allowed himself to relax. As she rinsed her hands off and pulled her gauntlets back on, he gingerly tried to raise his arm. _No pain. _He let out a breath in relief, moving his knee around freely. The wonders of medi-gel. It wouldn't fix the bruising but it would make it bearable until he could see a doctor. "Thanks, Commander," he told her grudgingly.

She looked over at Kaidan again, then tilted her head toward the door. He followed her back out into the still-empty mess. When they were a good distance away from the medbay, she rounded on him, folding her arms across her chest. "Now that you don't look like you're going to fall over if the wind blows the wrong way, we can have a little chat about what you did on Mars. What the _fuck _were you thinking, Lieutenant?" she demanded.

He gritted his teeth. "I was following your orders, ma'am," he told her.

"I don't remember ordering you to use my shuttle as a battering ram."

His temper flared. When she put it like that, it sounded as though he had treated the whole thing like it was a game. "You called for back-up! I backed you up!"

"You risked all of our lives in a reckless stunt! You risked your _own _life and lost us a valuable piece of hardware," Shepard's voice had risen as she spoke and was now close to shouting. "And now you're arguing with your commanding officer! Stand at attention, soldier."

He snapped to attention, glowering over her shoulder. He fought to keep himself from saying something he would regret.

"Didn't you think about the consequences at all? If you had come in at a slightly different angle, _both _shuttles could have been destroyed on impact. An explosion like that would have taken out the whole ground team, including Dr T'Soni and the data we needed." Her voice lowered to an icy chill. "You could have lost us the war right there, Lieutenant."

His anger flared again. No way could she put that sort of responsibility on him. _No way. _He opened his mouth to retort but she cut him off.

"Keep your mouth _shut, _Lieutenant. You were lucky. _Very _lucky. I don't ever want to see you do something that stupid again. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

She raised her voice to that time-honoured drill sergeant tone that never failed to cut through to a marine's very soul. "_I said, is that understood, marine?"_

There was only one way to respond to that tone. "Ma'am! Yes, ma'am!" he snapped, back rigid, eyes straight ahead.

Shepard turned and paced a couple of steps, running her gloved hand over her hair. It came away dusty. "All right. At ease. Use your goddamn brain next time, Briggs." The anger had fled, and she now just sounded exhausted. "We'll be at the Citadel in a few hours. I want you to come ashore with me, so be ready. I'm heading up to get some rest. I suggest you do the same."

Rigidly, he saluted. "Ma'am." She nodded and left for the elevator.

He dropped into his seat, viciously ripping the plastic off one of the ration bars now that he could move his shoulder. He finished it off in two angry bites and moved on to the next. Had she _seriously _just said that he could have cost them the war? What the hell kind of thing was that to say to someone? All he had done was come when she called! He had followed orders!

It wasn't like the shuttle could _actually_ have been destroyed. Kodiaks were practically flying bricks, rated for all sorts of crazy atmospheric conditions. He supposed they hadn't been certified for ramming solid objects but still…

And blowing up the whole ground team? No way! The mass effect core of the Kodiak was well-shielded for just such an eventuality, as were the mass accelerator cannons. The only way that could have happened was if the other shuttle didn't have the same fail-safes. Which he supposed he didn't know for certain, but they were standard on all… Alliance…

But he hadn't had time to think about that! He had needed to act fast, before the shuttle got away. He hadn't had time for any sort of thinking at all, really…

He sighed. _Shit. _She might have had a point. And… now that he thought about it… he could also have accidentally brought the shuttle down right on top of them. _Fuck. _He shook his head, anger slowly and grudgingly receding. Dammit, she was right. He could have cost them the mission. He could have killed them.

Part of him wanted very badly to stay angry, but he just couldn't do it. He crossed his arms on the table and let his head flop down onto them. Why hadn't he thought about what he was doing for a moment more? He could have come around and had a clear shot on the Cerberus shuttle if he had allowed it to take off. He wouldn't have even had to rely on his own single cannon – he could have herded it neatly up to the waiting _Normandy_.

It had been a stupid idea. A reckless, stupid idea.

He had wanted so badly to take his anger and fear about Earth out on something, anything that could be justified, that he had rushed in without thinking.

_Fuck. _While they were off flying around in the _Normandy_, people were dying on Earth. People he could be protecting.

But… the data they had retrieved had obviously been important, although he hadn't been told why. He wasn't sitting around on the ship doing nothing. They were helping… somehow. He had told Shepard on Earth that he trusted her. Maybe he would actually have to do that.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

_Shepard could feel the cold seeping through her armour, rising from the uneven stone ground below and pressing in around her like a vice. She was in a corridor, walls rough and rocky, but familiar. Her breath echoed harshly within the sealed confines of her helmet. She raised her weapon slowly… excruciatingly slowly. She started moving forward, and it felt like she was wading through water. Her body was heavy, her muscles sore and aching. _

_A wordless cry came from her helmet comm and somehow she knew to look over towards her left flank, taking in the glass-and-obsidian pipe that ran along the wall. Tali was inside. She had stopped at a junction and was calling her name, screaming, it was too hot and she was burning._

_Shepard knew what to do – after all, she had done it before. She ran for the glowing green plate that signalled a release valve, only she was moving so slowly. She wanted to tell Tali not to worry, that she was coming and would get her out, but her throat constricted and she couldn't draw the breath to speak. She ran faster, forcing her legs to move, feeling a building fire in her lungs, but she was still slow, so slow. Tali was wailing as the temperature inside the conduit increased, and still Shepard couldn't quite get to the valve._

_She reached her hand out, stretching desperately, as her friend's screams turned to whimpers and she slumped to the ground. _

_The green panel flickered and faded, winking out of existence, as Shepard's gloved hand passed through it._

_Bile rose up in her throat as she stared at Tali's crumpled body, suit burned away in places, face plate cracked. She wanted to throw up, but suddenly her surroundings lurched and blurred and she was standing on a familiar black obsidian platform. She was staring out at her team as they massed, preparing to defend against a Collector onslaught so she would have enough time to set the base to blow._

_She knew she had taken Miranda and Samara with her to destroy the base and kill the human reaper… but they weren't standing next to her now. She was alone on the platform. Why was she alone? She spotted them in the group below. All were milling around, trying to find cover from the limited choices available, preparing weapons, speaking grimly to one another as they waited for the Collectors to burst through the bulkhead doors._

_Confused, she tried to issue orders. Jack had chosen a precarious spot near the front where she could easily be flanked. She ordered her to move. But she didn't. None of them noticed her, no matter how much or how loud she shouted._

_The platform jerked and started to move backward, away from her team, and at the same moment the doors cracked ponderously open. Shepard tried to step forward – she shouldn't be on the platform alone, she had to help her team – but found that she couldn't move at all now. She watched, helplessly, as fire and light began to cascade between the two forces._

_Jack was the first to take a hit. She had been flanked. She was thrown back, hitting the ground with a heavy thump, limp and still before she got there. Shepard tried to move again, to get back over there somehow, to save her people, but nothing happened. She strained with all her limbs, watching as Thane was caught by a warp, sending him writhing to the ground. Kasumi clutched at her stomach, blood welling through her fingers, and fell to her knees. Grunt collapsed, grasping at his throat as his faceplate was blown clear off._

_One by one they all fell, and she watched, helpless, rage warring with despair. '_It didn't happen like this!' _she screamed, making no sound. Her throat closed again… but now suddenly she could move. She tried to rush forward but the scene changed again, shifting and lurching and spinning…_

_The floor fell out from beneath her feet and she was hanging, floating in blackness. She couldn't breathe. She clawed at her throat, gloved fingers crashing against her visor, legs twisting as she floated into space, away from the dying _Normandy_. She reached behind her head, grasping for the broken air hose, scrabbling at the cracked ceramic of her armour but unable to reach the writhing hose itself. The ice blue planet below whirled dizzily around her, even as her vision started to grow dim. Her arms grew weaker as she kept stretching them futilely over her shoulders. She heaved a burning breath, lungs straining and finding no relief—_

Shepard jerked upright, sucking air into her lungs quickly, hyperventilating. She gasped, reaching again for the hose, fingers knotting into hair…

Hair. Not helmet.

Hair.

She fell back onto the pillows, concentrating on trying to force her breathing to slow down. She was on the _Normandy_. In her cabin. Not outside in space. She was alive.

"_Shepard, I detect an anomaly in your vital signs."_ EDI's calm, pleasant voice sounded concerned as it issued from the overhead speakers. _"Are you experiencing any difficulties?"_

Shepard could feel her heart rate start to slow as the effects of the dream wore off. She managed to sound only slightly breathless when she spoke. "EDI… No, I… It was just a bad dream." She took a careful, slow breath. "I'm fine."

There was a long pause. _"My research shows that warm cow's milk may often counteract the inability to sleep peacefully in humans. I do not believe we currently have cow's milk in stock; however, perhaps another liquid such as water would prove beneficial?"_

Shepard smiled weakly. The dream had been a bad one, but EDI's calm, pleasant voice made her feel a little better. "That's a good idea, EDI, thank you," she replied.

"_I'm glad I could be of assistance, Shepard. Logging you out."_

She closed her eyes for a moment, grimacing at the memory of Tali's burnt, lifeless body. Her squad falling to the Collectors, one by one. Her dying breath over Alchera. She hadn't dreamt of _that_ in weeks. Months maybe.

It didn't take a genius to work out why it had come back now_. _Kaidan had almost been killed on Mars. And Admiral Hackett had all but laid the responsibility for defeating the Reapers entirely on her shoulders.

Kaidan. His lingering doubts about her had caught her off guard, and the aggressive way he had pushed them had surprised her. The Kaidan she knew had never been aggressive. He could be forceful when he wanted to be, but never outright angry, particularly not with her… except for that one time on Horizon. Mars had been like Horizon all over again, except that this time she was far less willing to take his verbal attacks, and this time when she had faltered it had been Nathan who had stepped up to defend her rather than Garrus.

She had been angry too, at the time, completely floored that he still harboured suspicions about her motives and that he would choose to air them in the middle of a critical mission. What had happened to him during the two years she had been dead to make him completely lose his mild-mannered amiability? And his trust in her?

But her anger had dissipated now. She had had enough of coddling him, trying to be understanding about what he had gone through while she was gone. Sure, he had thought she was dead, but _she had died! _She had died, then woken up cold and half-naked in a Cerberus lab. Cerberus!

She had saved millions of lives by taking down the Collectors and she had been forced to do it without the Alliance's help. If Kaidan wanted to go on thinking that by doing so she had betrayed him personally in some way that was his prerogative. It had nothing to do with her anymore.

Despite all that… she didn't want him to die. She had considered him a friend once. Up until the Mars mission, she still had. That was no longer the case, but he was still a soldier under her command and she would be devastated if he didn't make it.

She glanced at the chrono. She had been asleep for only two hours, but there was no way she would be able to get any more sleep now. The remnants of her dream still lingered like shadows in her mind. Perhaps she could spend some time visiting Kaidan before they arrived at the Citadel. She rolled out of bed, carefully avoiding looking at the stars and blackness of space through the viewport overhead, and padded on bare feet through the darkened cabin to the shower.

She let herself have a long, hot soak, washing away the sleep and any remaining dirt and sweat left over from the escape from Earth and the Mars op. She had fallen straight into bed after removing her armour, without bothering to shower, when she had come up to her cabin after speaking with Nathan earlier.

She shook her head. Nathan. What the hell could he have been thinking? That stunt he pulled had been something worthy of an eighteen year old straight out of basic training. Was he trying to prove something? Trying to impress her? She had been worried she might get that sort of thing from Vega – he occasionally had the same glimmer of hero worship in his eyes she had once seen from Conrad Verner – but so far the big man hadn't done anything stupid. He had in fact proved himself to be a highly capable soldier.

Nathan, on the other hand, she had thought she wouldn't have to worry about. He had never displayed any tendencies toward hero worship. In fact, he had never even seemed to _like _her very much until a month or two ago. He had started to warm up to her then, and she to him. She thought he considered her a friend.

But maybe… had that moment they almost shared in her cell meant more to him than she thought it did? At the time she had all but brushed it off as a side effect of the alcohol they had been drinking, but what if it was more than that? She had felt his eyes on her in the medbay, when she applied the medigel to his injuries. What if he actually _felt _something for her? If that was the case, she _supposed_ it would make sense for him to pull stupid stunts to try and impress her…

No. The man was reckless, but he wasn't a teenage boy out to impress a girl in high school. In all likelihood, it had just been lack of foresight, a decision made in the heat of the moment. He probably just hadn't thought his actions through. It could even have been a simple desire to look good in the eyes of a new CO, like… a normal soldier. Her team had been full of specialists, the best of the best, for so long that she had forgotten what it was like to lead regular soldiers. Nathan was by no means a bad soldier, he was just… a regular marine.

Of course, that didn't mean he _didn't_ feel something for her. It was an… intriguing thought.

She poured some honey and cinnamon scented shower gel into her palm and lathered it up, spreading it languorously over her body. The gel was one of very few indulgences she allowed herself, and if any of her crew ever found out about it she would deny it to her last breath. She had a reputation to uphold, after all. But there was something about the smell of cinnamon and honey mixing with steaming hot water that melted her muscles and forced her to relax. Right now she needed to relax.

Regardless of whether Nathan had a thing for her or not, hopefully the dressing down she had given him would prompt him to think ahead a bit more in future. He hadn't seemed to react well to it, and she knew she hadn't particularly enjoyed having to deliver it, but he had saluted and yes-ma'am'ed like a good marine. She couldn't really ask for much more than that. If the problem reoccurred in future, she would deal with it then.

She stepped out of the shower and dried herself off, then took her clean uniform out of the auto-launderer hidden in a bulkhead by her desk. She dressed quickly and pulled her hair into a neat regulation bun, taking a bit more care with it than she normally would. She needed to speak with the Council when they arrived at the Citadel, and probably Udina as well. After that, she had a bunch of errands to run, including heading to the Alliance satellite office to sort out armour and uniforms for herself and Nathan, and various miscellaneous items for the crew. They had all fled Earth with literally nothing but the clothes on their backs. Normally she would leave it up to her crew to take care of their own uniform requirements, but she suspected that it would take a bit of clout to get them all kitted out quickly, now that the war had begun.

While she was there, she also needed to arrange a replacement shuttle. Requisitions wouldn't be too happy about _that _expense, but there was no way she was going to leave port with anything less than a fully supplied ship. Speaking of, she also wanted to look into getting a dedicated shuttle pilot and a CMO. Karin Chakwas would be ideal for Chief Medical Officer, of course, but she had no idea what she was doing these days. She glanced toward the alcove where EDI's blue avatar would have appeared back on the Cerberus version of the SR-2. "EDI."

Of course, the little blue sphere didn't materialise, but EDI's voice issued from the cabin speakers. "_Yes, Commander?"_

"Can you find out where Karin Chakwas is currently posted?" she asked.

"_Dr Chakwas is assigned to Alliance Research and Development, at a facility situated in the Shalta Wards, on the Citadel."_

On the Citadel? Well, that was a lucky coincidence. "Can you send her a message, EDI? Ask her if she would like to meet with me."

"_Of course, Commander. I will advise you when there has been a reply."_

Satisfied with her hair, Shepard pulled her BDU jacket on and headed out the door, buttoning it up as she went. Head down, she ran straight into Liara.

The asari raised her hands, catching Shepard by the shoulders. "Shepard," she greeted her, amused.

Shepard winced. "Sorry, Liara. I guess I'm still a bit tired."

Liara nodded, appearing concerned. "EDI told me you didn't sleep very well."

Shepard glanced up at the ceiling, lip twitching in annoyance. "EDI."

"_My research also shows that humans gain comfort by speaking with close friends. I merely wished to ensure you are fully recovered, Commander."_

Shepard sighed. "Thank you, EDI."

"_Logging you out, Commander."_

"It's… _she _is very helpful, isn't she?" Liara sounded far too impressed.

"She can be," Shepard grumbled. _When she wasn't meddling. _She turned back to her cabin. "Come on in, have a seat."

She slumped onto her couch, leaving Liara to take the other side. "What have you got for me?" she asked, stifling a yawn.

Liara frowned. "First, are you all right?"

Shepard scrubbed a hand over her face. She was used to bad dreams. They came with the territory. She felt like she should be able to deal with them without getting Liara or anyone else involved. But Liara was a good friend and deserved more than just a brush-off. "I… dreamed about dying again," she admitted reluctantly. "I woke up and I couldn't breathe."

She cringed at the pity in Liara's expression. "Oh, Shepard," she murmured. "That must have been horrible."

"Yeah, it wasn't fun. But we have more important things to deal with." She cut off any further sympathy, changing the subject. She really didn't want to dwell on it. "You needed to see me?"

The asari didn't seem too happy to just drop the subject but she inclined her head anyway. "Yes, I did. I wanted to let you know that I have gathered together all the information we possess on the Crucible, and I will be ready to present it to the Council when you meet with them."

"Good. Hopefully they'll listen to me this time, but I'm not holding my breath. They never have before. Why start now?"

"Perhaps they will realise that not listening to your warnings about the Reapers is what got us all into this mess?"

Shepard snorted. "Ha. You planning a move into stand-up comedy, Liara?"

Liara made a face and lent forward, elbows on her knees. "Shepard, there's something else."

Shepard sat back, crossing her legs. She had a feeling she wouldn't like this, whatever it was. "Go on."

"I'm… not going to be able to stay on the _Normandy_ with you when you leave the Citadel," Liara said, eyes firmly on the floor.

Nope, she didn't like it. "What? Why not?" she asked, leaning forward again.

"Now that I'm the Shadow Broker, I need to be somewhere with access to as many communication channels as possible, both physical and electronic. The _Normandy_ won't be able to reliably provide me with that."

"But… surely the Shadow Broker can delegate."

"Not well enough." Liara shook her head and looked up. "Shepard, I'm going to be the most useful to you and the war effort if I have access to as much information as possible. I'm not going to get that on this ship."

"Your ability to obtain information is not your only asset, Liara," Shepard protested. "You're also one of the strongest biotics I know, and a good fighter. Someone I can trust to have my back."

"You can find other biotics, but you can't find another information broker. Not one you can be sure is completely loyal."

Shepard gritted her teeth. Damn her, but she was right. "You're also my friend."

Liara smiled sadly. "Yes, I am. And I will continue to be even if I'm not on your ship. I'll speak to Specialist Traynor before I leave. We'll make sure a secure connection is set up between my base and the _Normandy_. And whenever you're on the Citadel, you will make _sure _to visit me."

Shepard sighed and nodded. "I will. I suppose I understand, Liara. I don't like it, but I understand."

"Thank you, Shepard." Liara stood. Shepard followed suit. "I need to speak with Specialist Traynor. I will probably be gone by the time you return to the ship. Shepard… I'm not going to wish you luck. You won't need it. We _will _defeat the Reapers."

Shepard pulled her friend into an embrace, holding her tightly. She was sure she would see her again, but this moment felt so final. She supposed it could be. The galaxy was no longer safe. The Citadel could come under attack tomorrow. She didn't want to let Liara go without a proper goodbye.

But she couldn't think of anything meaningful to say. Instead, she replied, "Yes, we will. Goodbye, Liara."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Nathan dawdled near the _Normandy_ hologram in the CIC, waiting for Shepard. His shoulder and knee were both feeling a little better than they had originally, but he was keen to get moving and get to the hospital to have them taken care of. The medi-gel had worn off and they were starting to hurt again.

Major Alenko had already been rushed off the ship by a team of doctors and emergency workers. He hoped the Major would be okay. He had seemed like a decent guy despite the accusations he had been throwing at Shepard on Mars. And if he and Shepard were really together, well… as much as he detested that idea, he didn't want the guy to die. And he didn't want Shepard to have to deal with that if it happened.

He was still annoyed with the way she had chewed him out over the shuttle incident, but sleep and time had calmed him down somewhat. He didn't think he deserved to be taken to task like that, especially when his actions had prevented Cerberus escaping with the data they needed. But… he knew he had stuffed up. He had endangered the team and the mission. Grudgingly, he accepted that.

He didn't have to wait long for Shepard to arrive, dressed neatly in BDUs, jacket buttoned tightly, not a hair out of place. He fought the urge to check his own jacket, knowing he didn't scrub up nearly as well.

They had docked at the Citadel only a few minutes ago; she seemed just as keen as he was to get moving. He nodded companionably in greeting, hoping to convey that he wasn't going to be holding a grudge. "Commander."

"Briggs," she replied, nodding in return. "Ready to go?"

"Yes ma'am." He followed her into the airlock and stood awkwardly while the doors cycled through, trying to think of something to say to fill the silence.

She beat him to it. "Briggs, I stand by what I said last night." She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts, then continued, "Except the bit about you costing us the war. That was too much." He glanced at her in surprise. Her brows were drawn, expression grim. "I'm sorry."

Well, he hadn't expected _that_. "It's okay," he finally replied. "You were right, overall. I didn't think. It was a dumb thing to do."

She nodded and the tiny decontamination chamber fell silent. Damn, he hadn't expected her to apologise to him. No commanding officer had ever done _that _before. Had she apologised as his CO, though, or as his friend? The CO certainly didn't need to apologise even if she _had_ been out of line, but the friend…

A weight he hadn't realised was there lifted from his chest. That apology _had_ to mean Shepard still thought of him as a friend. Suddenly the air felt a little clearer, more relaxed. For the first time since they had both almost been vaporised by the Reapers back on Earth he felt like the door might be open for them to get back to the way it used to be between them.

Unable to stand the silence any longer, he asked, "So, what's the plan, ma'am?" then immediately cringed. Oh for the love of… he had rhymed. Had he really just _rhymed?_

Shepard cast a glance at him, lip quirking in amusement at his discomfort. She cast her eyes to the ceiling in thought. "Um… we're going to go fix your… impairment… Lieutenant?"

He groaned, looking at her with an affronted expression. "Oh, come on. You could have just let my stupid rhyme slip by unnoticed, Shepard. You didn't have to try and one-up me."

"Oh yes I did. You crashed my shuttle. I'm entitled to give you as much shit as I want."

He felt an involuntary grin spread across his face. That wasn't the Commander talking. That was the Shepard he knew. That was his friend. "I'm going to be hearing about that for a long time, aren't I?" She nodded almost gleefully, a bright grin on her face as she looked up at him. His expression turned sly. "You know, you could say your joke… crashed and burned."

She wrinkled her nose and made a face at him. Warmth spread through his chest. Bad jokes were their _thing_. Maybe they would be okay. Maybe they _could_ slip back into the easy friendship they had developed before fleeing Earth. He hadn't realised how much he had missed it.

The outer hatch opened, and a smooth mechanical voice emanated from above their heads. "_Logged: the commanding officer is ashore. Flight Lieutenant Moreau has the deck_."

Shepard glanced up. "Oh, they put _that _back? Great," she murmured. Nathan didn't ask.

They headed down the docking ramp and out into the bay proper, Nathan favouring his bruised knee as he walked. The common area was linked to a number of other docks, so it was always going to be busy, but it seemed remarkably so at the moment. Numerous humans, turians and asari were milling around in the waiting area, and there was a long line to go through the security checkpoint.

Nathan studied the crowd dubiously, happy mood fading away. He didn't like their chances of getting through without Shepard being recognised. If people thought she was an escaped criminal, it could be a problem. He bent his head so he could speak in a lowered voice and she would still hear him. "Shepard, did you get reinstated?"

She nodded. "I did. You've been assigned to my crew as part of my marine detachment."

Huh. He hadn't considered the fact that he could have been reassigned. He was glad he hadn't been. But it was beside the point right now. "Are people aware of that? What about your… trial?" he asked cautiously as they joined the line for security.

"You mean 'what about the fact that everyone thinks I'm a mass-murderer'? It's been taken care of," she replied distractedly, assessing the crowded room herself.

Taken care of? What was that supposed to mean? Were they in danger or not? He noticed that heads were turning their way. Whispers had started. It set his teeth on edge. He had to force his hand not to stray towards his sidearm.

If he listened carefully, he could just barely hear the conversation two human women dressed in civilian clothing were having while casting veiled glances in Shepard's direction. He eavesdropped, hoping that "taken care of" constituted some sort of public announcement.

"Isn't that…"

"Of course not, she's in prison, or dead. Earth was invaded, remember?"

"No she's not, I heard it on the news this morning. She escaped!"

"What, prison?"

"No, Earth! The Reapers didn't get her. As if they ever could. And she's been fully pardoned." Nathan raised his eyebrows and glanced at Shepard. Well, that would certainly "take care of" it.

"What? No way! She killed thousands—"

"Because she had to! If she didn't, the Reapers would have been here six months ago."

Nathan froze. _Holy shit. _So that was why…

But she had never mentioned anything other than claiming her actions had been necessary. Suddenly Anderson's words from that meeting in his office six months ago made sense. He had said the same thing. At the time Nathan hadn't believed the Admiral. He hadn't been able to conceive of any possible justification for killing three hundred thousand civilians. But now… after seeing the devastation the Reapers had brought to Earth, he began to understand. He didn't know _how _killing so many people could postpone a Reaper invasion but if it had, Shepard had probably saved many more lives than she had taken.

The fact that she had been put in a position where it was necessary for her to make that decision, though… it chilled his blood.

"Oh my god! I knew it! Commander Shepard would never do something like that unless she had no other choice! She's a hero!"

"I know! And I swear that's her over there, have a look."

"It can't be… oh. Wow. I think you're right. Oh my god."

"I told you so! Wait, I'm going to go over."

"No, don't! You can't! She'll… shoot you or something!"

"_Shoot_ me? Are you serious? She's Commander Shepard!"

Nathan glanced at Shepard, wondering if she had heard. "Uh…" he began.

"I see them. It's all right," she reassured him. "I'm used to this, it happened all the time a few months—I mean, a couple of years ago, after the Battle of the Citadel. Or," she amended wryly, "I had better _get _used to it, if you ask Hackett."

The women he had been listening to approached them hesitantly. The shorter, blonde one spoke up first. "Um… I'm so sorry to bother you, but are you Commander Shepard?" she asked.

Shepard smiled politely. "Yes," she replied. More heads turned their way, and a small crowd began to gather. Nathan's skin prickled, but he forced himself to stand calmly by her side.

The blonde woman smoothed her palms over her thighs and looked at her friend for help. "Um…"

The taller woman seemed just as tongue-tied, but with a visible effort she gathered her courage and offered her hand to Shepard. "Commander Shepard. It's an honour," she gasped.

Shepard shook her hand. "Pleased to meet you," she said, and Nathan was surprised at the genuine warmth in her voice. She offered her hand to the blonde woman, who shook it nervously after a moment's trepidation. She looked like she was about to faint.

Suddenly other hands were being offered. Shepard shook them one by one, exchanging small greetings, seemingly unfazed by the crowd that had gradually started to grow around her. To his surprise, Nathan found that some of the people were actually offering their hands to _him _as well_. _Perhaps it was his uniform, or his proximity to Shepard? He wasn't sure, but he shook them to be polite, feeling awkward.

One man took hold of Shepard's hand when she approached him and didn't let go. Nathan tensed, but could see no malice in his eyes, only worry and pain. "Commander," the man said, "Have you heard any news about Earth?"

A shadow flickered over her face for a moment, then was gone. "I just came from Earth." She took a breath. "I won't lie to you. It's bad," she admitted. She subtly directed her next words to the crowd as a whole, pitching her voice a little higher, while still focussing on the man before her. "But we're not beaten yet. We have teams on the ground already, mounting a resistance. We have whole fleets of ships intact, and we have the people to fly them. And," she smiled proudly, "we have the best marines in the galaxy." The crowd, made up mostly of humans, murmured in agreement at that. "I'm here on the Citadel to speak to our allies. It's going to be tough, but we _will _defeat the Reapers."

Nathan saw the fire in her eyes reflected in the eyes of the man whose hand she was holding. He grinned at her and without warning, pulled her into a fierce hug as the crowd rustled appreciatively at her words. Nathan found himself stepping forward reflexively, but the man just whispered something into her ear, then let her go with a clap on the back.

Nathan shook his head minutely. Shepard's little speech had gotten to him too. He found himself slightly more energised, more optimistic, even though he was well aware of the realities of the situation. The best marines in the galaxy weren't going to help them against giant sentient starships. Regardless, he suddenly wanted to get moving, get himself healed up so he could get back out there and keep fighting.

The woman had a hell of a knack for speeches.

The rest of the crowd was starting to crowd closer, wanting hugs or pats on the back or just to be nearer to the famous Commander Shepard. Nathan wondered why Alliance control had deemed a public docking bay to be the best place for the _Normandy_. He decided it was time to do something before they got stuck here for the next few hours.

He leaned down, but raised his voice so the crowd would be able to hear. "Commander, we need to get to that meeting with the Council." He placed a hand lightly on the small of her back and began to guide her through the crowd toward the security checkpoint, gently but firmly using his height and bulk to nudge people aside. She nodded and waved to the crowd in farewell and allowed herself to be escorted, understanding what he was trying to do.

He ignored the queue, figuring the C-Sec officers manning it would be happy to let them straight through if it meant dispersing the crowd. He was right – the one nearest the first security grid waved them through, then stepped in behind them and turned back, guarding their exit. Nathan looked over his shoulder as they went through the second checkpoint. The crowd didn't seem inclined to follow, although some of them watched as they left, trying to get a last glimpse of Shepard.

"Good thinking, Briggs," she told him as they walked over to the rapid transit terminal and hailed a cab. "Very diplomatic."

"Thanks, Shepard," he replied. He leant up against the wall as they waited for the cab to arrive, careful not to put any weight on his injured shoulder, digesting what had just happened. It had been surreal. "Though I thought the whole bodyguard gig was finished after we got off Earth." She shrugged sheepishly. Now that she was away from the crowd, she seemed a little more self-conscious, though he doubted anyone who didn't know her well would be able to tell. "So, what did that man say to you?" he asked, allowing his curiosity to get the better of him.

Her blue eyes lit up and her lips curved in a soft smile. It seemed that those few moments with the crowd of civilians had affected her just as much as it had affected them. His breath caught in his throat for a moment, and he covered it with a quick cough. She was beautiful. "He said thank you."

Damn Kaidan.

* * *

Shepard left Udina's office with a determined spring to her step. The Council weren't going to help and although he wanted to – which was a surprise – Udina couldn't do much on his own. She hadn't ever really thought they would help, but she couldn't visit the Citadel and _not _speak to them. Despite that, it hadn't all been a giant waste of time – the turian councillor had come to see her in private and asked her to rescue Primarch Fedorian from Menae, one of Palaven's moons. Apparently the Primarch would be likely to agree to add turian ships to the fleet she was building, or at the very least, was willing to talk about it. It wasn't much, but it was a sliver of hope.

The crowd of people she had spoken with earlier had buoyed her resolve just as much as she hoped she had buoyed theirs. The man who had hugged her in particular. She couldn't describe the feeling that had come over her when he thanked her. No one had ever really done that before outside of scripted ceremonies and formal dinners. If she had to dissect it, she supposed it reminded her what she was fighting for. She had a clear goal now, a mission to complete on Menae. If she could secure turian ships for the intergalactic fleet, it would be a huge step toward raising that army Hackett wanted.

She made her way to the rapid transit depot and caught one of the driverless cabs to the Alliance Military offices. Once she had her requisitions sorted, she could head back to the ship and they could be on their way. No doubt the shuttle would take a bit longer to deliver, but she had changed her mind about waiting for it. They had another. They could pass back through and pick the new one up after Menae.

Speaking of Menae, she didn't much like the idea of going into an op with a ground team full of nothing but weaponry specialists. Armoured and shielded opponents would be much more difficult to deal with without tech and biotics. Vega didn't have any tech or biotic skills at all. Nathan had some tech skills but he had been upfront with the fact that they were not very good. She would have to ask him to work on them, but until then she needed to fill the empty spots in her crew.

She raised a finger to her ear. "EDI."

"_Yes, Shepard."_

"I want you to send messages to the following people, asking if they will meet with me as soon as possible. Use the emergency contact methods we set up before they left. Miranda Lawson, Kasumi Goto, Legion, Tali'Zorah, Thane, Garrus Vakarian… and… Jack and Samara."

"_Done. Is there anything else I can assist with?"_

Shepard was endlessly grateful that EDI had been happy to act as a sort of personal assistant for her. She just hadn't had the time to deal with things like messages and admin tasks since she had returned to the Normandy. She resolved to find some way to thank the AI. "Yes. Send messages to the remaining members of my old team too, but just ask them for status updates. They don't have the skills I need, and I don't want to make them feel obligated to join me this time. But I'd like to know how they're going."

"_Of course. I will advise you of any replies. Shepard, you have received a reply to your earlier message to Dr Chakwas. She has agreed to meet with you at Huerta Memorial Hospital."_

She and Nathan had already been to the hospital, where she had checked on Kaidan, quickly had her own minor injuries seen to, and left Nathan there to see a doctor about his shoulder and knee. She didn't want to go by the hospital again. If she was honest, she hated the place. She hated all hospitals. As a marine, if you were in hospital it meant you had been hurt too badly for a combination of medi-gel and the ship's doctor to patch you up. It never boded well. And besides, as soon as things were taken care of at Alliance HQ she wanted to head straight for Menae. "Please ask her if she could meet me at the Alliance offices instead."

"_Done. Commander, you have received a reply from Miranda Lawson. She has agreed to meet with you. She is currently on the Citadel. She has advised that she will contact you directly."_

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "That was quick," she commented.

"_I agree._ _You have also received a reply from Kasumi Goto. She too is located on the Citadel and will contact you directly."_

"Huh. All right, then. Thank you EDI."

"_Logging you out, Shepard."_

She had to marvel at her luck. The Citadel was a big place, of course, but it was still very lucky that two of the best operatives from her old team just happened to be here at the same time as she was, right when she needed them. She shrugged. She wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, although she did wonder what had brought them to the Citadel in the first place.

The cab pulled up outside Alliance HQ. She climbed out and spotted Nathan standing near the entrance. She had to stifle a grin. A few soldiers were milling about, but his tall frame stood out like a turian at a volus party. She met him at the door and they entered together. "Feeling better?" she asked, looking him over critically.

He was walking without a limp. "Yes, ma'am," he replied with a cocky grin, rolling his shoulder in demonstration. "All patched up."

"Good." His good mood was infectious. She bumped him gently with a shoulder. "Let's go get us some supplies."

She headed for the reception counter and the startled-looking servicewoman who had just noticed her. The woman got up to salute, but Shepard waved her down and asked to speak to someone from Requisitions. The servicewoman ran off – literally scurrying away down the hall, leaving Shepard blinking in surprise. "Um," she deadpanned.

"Be nice if the Reapers reacted to your presence like that," Nathan muttered.

"It'd solve a lot of problems."

It didn't take long before Shepard and Nathan were seated in the office of the base's chief procurement officer. The man was very laid back, and Shepard found herself grateful for that. There was only so much hero worship she could handle in one day.

He still seemed to realise who she was, however, and took a certain amount of glee in playing fast and loose with standard procedure on her behalf. He 'diverted' a new Kodiak UT-47A from its intended destination to the _Normandy; _Shepard didn't ask where it had come from. He scanned both she and Nathan with his omnitool to obtain their measurements and forwarded the data straight through to Alliance outfitters with instructions to bump them both to the top of the queue for new custom-made uniforms. The threat he made to the hesitant man on the other end of the comm went something along the lines of, 'If Commander Shepard has to save the galaxy in her underwear I'll make sure to tell them who was responsible!' He also arranged for standard uniforms in various sizes to be delivered to the _Normandy_ for the rest of the crew, and bumped those up to the head of the queue as well.

Once he was finished with that, he moved on to armour. Although she wanted to get out of there quickly, Shepard took her time going over the specifications of her armour. The gear that kept her alive in the field was not something to cut corners on. The procurement officer seemed to understand that. He even insisted on purchasing some of the more specialised components from stores like Armax and Hahne-Kedar with his department's discretionary fund. They spent a good hour on it, making sure everything would be perfect. He even agreed to arrange to have Nathan's new standard Alliance armour upgraded with a couple of mods and painted in custom colours. Nathan seemed pretty happy about that. He was making out like a bandit for the sole reason that he happened to be here with her.

After all that, she sincerely thanked him and promised him a commendation to his superiors for his hard work. He snorted and told her not to waste her time with "shit like that", and to come straight to him if she ever needed anything else to help her "fuck up those Reaper pricks". She tossed him an amused salute as they left.

Next she spoke to Personnel, and found it was surprisingly easy to arrange for experienced people to join the _Normandy_ crew. The Alliance had an abundance of unassigned personnel, now that half the fleet had been destroyed and anyone who had been on leave was now turning up at Alliance offices demanding to be deployed. Shepard handed over the list of who was needed where on the ship, and the personnel officer had new orders out to replacement crewmembers within the hour. The only role they had been unable to fill was that of Executive Officer, but Shepard had an idea who she could tap for that, _if _she agreed to come on board.

Finally she and Nathan were able to leave the Alliance base. They had been ashore for only three hours. Shepard was impressed. She had thought it would take much longer to get everything sorted. Of course, they would have to wait for the shuttle, uniforms and armour to be delivered, and the new crew members to board, but she had been assured that would be completed by the evening. She considered staying for the night and giving everyone a few hours of shore leave, but they didn't have the time. As soon as the ship was fully stocked, they would head straight for Menae, travelling through the night cycle.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

As Shepard and Nathan exited the building, Shepard spotted a familiar shock of grey hair and a white scientist's uniform off to one side. "Dr Chakwas," she greeted her old friend with a smile.

The older woman was waiting on a bench outside, face upturned, enjoying the simulated sun of the Citadel. When she saw Shepard, she got to her feet and pulled the younger woman into an embrace. She planted a motherly kiss on her cheek, then held her back at arms' length. "Shepard. You're a sight for sore eyes. I was glad to hear they finally came to their senses and pardoned you." Her tone turned accusatory. "You look thin. When was the last time you ate?"

Shepard shifted her weight to her other foot, ignoring the amused twitch of Nathan's lips. "Karin, please," she protested, feeling like a scolded child. "I've eaten."

"Oh yes, I'm sure you have, sometime in the past twenty-four hours. Come on, then. I'm buying you lunch."

Shepard opened her mouth to say that they had work to do, but closed it again as her stomach rumbled warningly. Hadn't she just finished telling herself that she was all done on the Citadel and ready to head back to the ship early? There was no reason why she couldn't take a few minutes for lunch with one of her oldest friends.

And a new one. "Dr Karin Chakwas, this is Lieutenant Nathan Briggs," she introduced Nathan as they started walking.

Nathan reached around behind her to shake Chakwas' hand. "It's a pleasure, ma'am," he greeted her politely.

"Likewise, young man," Chakwas replied, studying him with interest.

"Nath—Lieutenant Briggs was my assigned personal guard while I was being held in Vancouver," Shepard explained. "We managed to get off Earth together."

Nathan nodded sagely. "Yeah, luckily I was there to save the Commander. Took out a few husks for her."

Shepard threw him an amused look. "Hey, I helped. I ducked. You know, so I wasn't in your way."

Nathan winked at her, and right out of nowhere her stomach did little flip-flops. Startled, she quickly turned her attention to Chakwas.

Chakwas' penetrating gaze moved from Nathan to Shepard and back again, eyebrow raised, lip quirked in amusement. With a sudden certainty, Shepard realised Chakwas had noticed her reaction. The doctor didn't say anything, though; she was far too canny for that. "Well, I'd like to hear the _real _story over lunch, if you would be so kind," she said.

The three of them headed into the Presidium Commons and Chakwas guided them over to a small café overlooking the Citadel's gardens. Once they were seated at a relatively secluded table and had ordered, Shepard told her the full story of their escape from Earth, with Nathan jumping in from time to time. By the end of it, their food had arrived and Chakwas had grown grim and silent despite Nathan's attempts to lighten the story by making fun of his own fear of heights, among other things. "Hm. Well, you've gotten yourself out of some pretty nasty scrapes, my girl, but I think that one rates near the top of the list," she commented.

Shepard nodded. She supposed that was true. She toyed with her burger, opening it up and picking out the slices of carrot. She had no idea what would compel someone to put carrot in a burger. "I know," she replied. "That was just the beginning, though, Karin. We're going to get into a lot worse before this war is over."

"I think you're right," Chakwas agreed sadly. "You're going to need me there to patch you up, you know."

Shepard couldn't help a grateful smile. She should have known she wouldn't need to ask. Although, "Aren't you a researcher these days?"

Chakwas shook her head. All traces of humour were absent when she spoke. "My research can wait. I belong with you out there, Shepard. I can't fight like you can, but I'm a hell of a good doctor and I know your Cerberus modifications better than anyone else. I need to be there to make sure you stay in one piece."

Shepard met the doctor's steady gaze, feeling as though a solid, immoveable platform had just been placed under her feet. Ever since she had first set foot on the _Normandy_ SR-1, Dr Chakwas had been a constant. She could fix whatever injury Shepard had managed to sustain in the field, of course, but more than that, she seemed to be able to steer her in the right direction, too. When Shepard had just been revived after Cerberus had rebuilt her and shoved her, reeling, onto the SR-2, it had been Dr Chakwas' who helped keep her sane.

She couldn't put into words how grateful she was that the woman wanted to return to the _Normandy_, so she didn't try. Chakwas would know. She covered the doctor's hand with one of her own. "Thank you, Karin. Welcome aboard," she said.

Nathan had been sitting there quietly, eating his meal and allowing the two friends to talk. Now he spoke up. "So, Cerberus modifications huh? I've heard about some sort of bone weave they invented, it's supposed to be really good. Is that what you've got, Commander?" he asked. He had fallen back into using formal addresses now that it wasn't just the two of them.

Shepard abruptly remembered that Nathan couldn't possibly know what had happened to her back then. Her resurrection and subsequent war on the Collectors had never been made public knowledge. The media had started to pick up on the fact that she wasn't dead after her destruction of the Collector base, but the Alliance hadn't explained her supposed death and two-year absence, which meant the news reports were all speculative. Most decided that she had been undercover in some capacity. None came even close to the reality.

As far as Nathan knew, she had been deep undercover for two years until she had reappeared and blown the Alpha Relay. Hell, he probably didn't even know about the Collector base. She didn't like the idea of him not knowing the truth. Despite his idiotic actions on Mars, she liked him. A lot. And more importantly, she trusted him.

"Yes, I have that mod, among other things," she replied, choosing her words carefully. "Nathan, I… I died two and a half years ago."

He glanced at Dr Chakwas. "Yeah, I remember your funeral. You seemed to get better a couple of years later though. Are you saying you're Commander Shepard's evil clone, then?" His flippant tone betrayed his confusion.

Shepard ignored the knee-jerk wisecrack and the feelings it evoked from those first few days after she had woken up, when she hadn't been certain _what _she was. "My ship was destroyed by a Collector vessel over the planet Alchera. I was spaced. My helmet's air hose broke, and I died," she explained calmly.

Nathan's face drained of all colour and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, starting to look a little angry, as if he thought he might be the butt of a joke but couldn't figure out what the joke was. "What?" He looked to Chakwas again, as if she could clear this up by virtue of her medical degree.

Chakwas placed a comforting hand on his arm. "When she didn't come down in the last escape pod, none of us knew what to do. Joker was inconsolable. He blamed himself. Kaidan took command, but it was like he was walking around in a daze. None of us could fathom that after all we had been through, the impossible odds we had beaten, Commander Shepard would die an innocuous spacers' death."

Shepard had to lower her eyes as thoughts of her crew having to deal with losing her like that threatened to overwhelm her. She stared at her half-eaten hamburger and took a deep breath, fighting down memories. It was never pleasant for her to recall the events leading up to her death, either. She would probably dream about it again tonight. But it felt important to let Nathan know about it. Everyone else on her team knew.

Chakwas continued. "You said you remembered her funeral, yes?"

Nathan was frowning. "I remember. I was in the Terminus systems at the time. My squad and I… we took a moment to remember her life." He looked at her, and his eyes were filled with confusion. She met his eyes with a little difficulty, hoping her sincerity would shine through and he would understand that she wasn't lying to him or playing some sort of cruel joke.

Chakwas nodded. "After what seemed like a few short months of remembrance and tributes and the like – I don't remember exactly – those ghoulish recruitment ads started to show up again. I couldn't stand it. They were treating her like a… a product. I wanted to be out of Alliance space, back on a starship, where I didn't have to see that every day. So when Cerberus told me about their plans to bring the Commander back, I joined up immediately."

Shepard took up the story. "Liara – Dr T'Soni – located my body and handed it over to Cerberus—"

"Wait. Cerberus?" Nathan interjected. His jaw worked silently. "This is the same Cerberus we ran into on Mars? The same organisation turning their own people into husks?"

"Yes," she confirmed reluctantly. "Liara tells me that she had a choice between Cerberus and the Collectors, so she chose Cerberus. She decided they were the lesser of two evils. She gave my body to Cerberus and they spent two years rebuilding me. They gave me upgrades. My bones are stronger, my muscles more powerful. I heal more quickly than an average human."

"They… they brought you back to life? Resurrected you?" She nodded slowly. He looked away, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "And gave you upgrades."

"Yes. I suppose it made sense, though I would have liked to have been consulted," Shepard said lightly, though she was unable to hide the bitterness in her voice.

"What? So… you're some kind of zombie super hero now?" Nathan fell back on humour again, but his eyes didn't change and his voice was flat.

She shook her head, ignoring the zombie crack, although it cut a little close to home. "No. I can hit harder and run faster, but that's about it. Some parts of me are completely synthetic. I have cybernetics holding my bones together. But if I get shot it's still going to hurt, and I'll still bleed out and die." She shrugged. "It's just harder for me to get hurt than it was before."

He stared at her. "You're so… nonchalant about this."

"I found it difficult at first. I woke up, and two years had gone by. To me, it felt like I had died yesterday," she explained, mind flitting back to the moment she had woken up in the Cerberus medbay, Miranda's voice in her ear telling her to get up and put her armour on. She shook it away. "But I've had months to get used to the idea now. I suppose… I'm grateful. If it wasn't for Cerberus, I would be dust and ashes on Alchera." She shrugged.

"So what Kaidan said on Mars… he had a point." Shepard felt a flash of anger at that, but she suppressed it. Nathan didn't have the full story yet. Besides, it didn't sound like he was precisely agreeing with Kaidan, more that he could now see where his accusations had come from. Nathan swallowed. "This is hard to take in."

She couldn't help a small, completely humourless laugh. "I know. It's hard to believe. Hell, I'm living it and I barely believe it." Shepard raised her burger to her lips but stopped. Her mouth was dry, and her stomach never reacted very well to thoughts of her death. She put it down again with a sigh. "I wanted you to know."

"I… okay. Thanks." Nathan trailed off, looking shell-shocked.

Shepard couldn't blame him. She had been telling the truth, though, when she told him she was now grateful. She had her life back. It was a… priceless gift. Impossible. Unfathomable. And yet, it had happened, and she was glad.

They finished their meal in painful, awkard silence. Nathan ate with a frown permanently etched into his forehead, while Chakwas seemed to be equally thoughtful. Shepard left them to their thoughts and forced herself to finish her meal, though it had lost all taste to her. When they had all finished, they made their way back to the rapid transit stand and piled into a cab.

They had been gliding along for almost a full minute, still in silence, before a disembodied voice came from the unoccupied front seat next to Shepard. "Okay, I can't do this anymore. You're all so… sombre."

Shepard jumped, reaching for a pistol that wasn't there. Nathan had his omniblade out in a flash.

Kasumi Goto flickered into existence, powering down her cloak. She held her hands up in placation, amused grin on her lips. "Hey, hey, it's me! So jumpy!"

"Kasumi!" Shepard leaned forward, glaring. "Are you insane?" She waved Nathan down. Neither of them were in a joking mood after their previous conversation.

The thief leaned back, crossing her legs elegantly, unconcerned. "I was _trying_ to have a bit of fun. I wanted to see how long I could sit here, cloaked, without you realising I was here. But you all look so serious! I thought a little scare might wake you up a bit." Shepard shook her head in exasperation. Kasumi winked, then turned her attention to Chakwas. "Doctor, it's good to see you again."

Chakwas appeared only mildly annoyed. "And you, Kasumi. You look well. You must have stolen something particularly good."

Kasumi covered her heart with her hand and feigned a hurt expression. "Doctor, you wound me! It was some very useful data, actually. But I'll tell you about that later." She shifted her gaze to Nathan, cheekily running her eyes up and down his body, lingering on certain… areas. "And who is this?" she asked appreciatively.

Shepard found herself bristling in annoyance at the way the thief was ogling Nathan. "Kasumi," she warned her. "This is Lieutenant Nathan Briggs, one of my marines."

He seemed bemused as he held his hand out to shake. Kasumi took it and held on for a little longer than was really necessary. "_So _pleased to meet you, Lieutenant. You're one of Shepard's men, then?" she asked suggestively.

To her horror, Shepard felt her cheeks heat up, just a little. Which made no sense, because of course Nathan was not one of her men in _that_ way! Or in any other way! Aside from being one of her soldiers, of course. She hoped no one had noticed her blush. "Kasumi," she protested, a little too strongly. Wincing inwardly, she quickly changed the subject. "I asked you to meet me because I have a request."

The thief had clearly noticed her reaction, if the borderline smug smile on her lips was anything to go by. "Do tell."

"I need someone with your talents on my team."

"You planning on conducting a heist or two, Shep? I suppose that's _one _way to fund a war."

"I need your technical skills, Kasumi. Nathan here can barely throw an overload, and he's the best tech I have."

"It's true," Nathan agreed good-naturedly. "I prefer shooting things."

Kasumi chuckled, then turned her gaze back to Shepard. She considered for a long moment, then shrugged and smiled. "Well, you did help me get Keiji's greybox back. And I have nothing else to do. Sure, I'll help you."

No, that wasn't good enough. Shepard grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward, locating her eyes beneath the heavy grey hood. "Kasumi, this is not a fun little side trip. I'm asking for your help to defeat the Reapers once and for all. I'm asking you to fight a _war_ with me. This is another suicide mission, only this time the odds are worse. You do not owe me anything. Don't come out of obligation to me."

To Shepard's surprise, Kasumi neatly twisted out of her grip, took hold of her hand properly, and met her gaze with a steely glint in her eyes. The last time Shepard had seen Kasumi look like that, it had been as they were heading down the ramp into the Collector base. In a low voice, she replied, "Shep, the data I stole implicates the hanar ambassador in a plot to destroy the volus homeworld on behalf of the Reapers. I just came from turning it over to a Spectre. I want to help. That was the best way I could think of to do it. _You _just gave me a better way." She sat back, and her eyes were hidden behind her cowl again, lip twitching in her customary sardonic smile. "So I'm in."

Shepard nodded, satisfied. "It'll be good to have you back, Kasumi."

"It'll be good to be back, Shep."

They pulled up at the docking bay and all piled out. Thankfully the crowd from earlier was gone. The area was still busy, but this time people seemed more concerned with their own business than with the fact that Commander Shepard was nearby. When they reached the docking bridge, however, two people stepped out of the shadows.

Shepard stopped, crossed her arms beneath her breasts and shifted her weight to one hip. "Hello Miranda. Did you bring any other friends? Old crew members have been jumping out at me all over the place today."

Miranda mirrored her stance, lip quirking in amusement. "Shepard. It's good to see you too."

Shepard turned to the other person. "Zaeed. Funny seeing you here."

"You want some extra goddamn firepower or not, Shepard?" the old mercenary demanded.

Shepard raised her eyebrows. "You want to join me? You got a death wish, old man?"

He snorted. "Those Reaper bastards are on Earth. I want to kick 'em where it hurts. You're good at finding where that is."

Miranda's expression seemed to agree. "Zaeed is here because I hired him for a little job of my own before I received your message. Cerberus is up to something. I've been trying to find out what that is." She sighed. "And I've also been trying to stay ahead of their agents. I'm not one of the Illusive Man's favourite people anymore. I needed… some help, and Zaeed was happy to oblige. For the right price, of course. Shepard, the Illusive Man can't get to me easily aboard your ship, and I have a feeling that whatever Cerberus is doing will somehow end up tied in with this war. I want in too."

Shepard shrugged. "All right, well, that was why I asked you to meet me in the first place. Welcome aboard." Unlike Kasumi, to whom life often appeared to be a game, she knew that Miranda and Zaeed understood the consequences fully and didn't need to be reminded. "So, no other crew members hiding around here?"

Miranda rolled her eyes. "There don't appear to be, Commander."

Shepard nodded. She grinned. "Good. Let's get moving then. Now that you're here, Miranda, I have a job for you."

* * *

_A/N: Menae next time I promise! And things will be very different to the game. Thank you all for reading, especially those who took the time to leave reviews. I hope you're enjoying the story!_


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

When the _Normandy_ arrived over Menae Nathan was standing in the cockpit, watching over Joker's shoulder. The roiling colours of FTL travel receded, replaced by the inky blackness of space and the scorched surface of Palaven hanging just overhead and behind its satellite moon Menae. The turian fleet swarmed around its homeworld. The sharp corners and angular lines of the turian ships were a stark contrast to the cloud of organically-shaped Reaper vessels interspersed among them. There were fewer Reapers, but watching turian ships regularly disappearing in flashes of fire and debris made it clear who had the upper hand.

"Damn," Nathan murmured. Palaven was just as besieged as Earth.

"Yeah," Joker said, all of the usual mirth gone from his tone. "Get your ass down to the shuttle, Briggs. I'm going to dip into atmosphere and bug out pretty damn quick. That new pilot, whatever his name is, will need to be ready in time."

"Right." Nathan hurried down to the shuttle bay, where the ground team was just boarding the new Kodiak. He followed, leaping up into the shuttle behind them. He caught a quick glimpse of the new shuttle pilot as he took his seat beside Kasumi Goto, across from Miranda Lawson. He hadn't had a chance to speak to Cortez yet, nor Kasumi or Miranda, but then he hadn't met many of the _Normandy's_ other crew members either. He supposed he would have a chance to speak to Miranda regularly in future, seeing as how she was now his direct superior officer. Shepard had announced that the woman had accepted a field commission to the rank of Staff Lieutenant and would be acting as the _Normandy's_ XO.

He wasn't sure what to make of that, but after accompanying Shepard to the Alliance personnel office he knew executive officers were in short supply. No Alliance officer on board the Normandy at the moment had the rank to fill the role, aside from Dr Chakwas, and he assumed Shepard had concluded that none had the necessary skills to be promoted into it either. He hoped Miranda did. He added it to the growing mental list of things to ask Shepard about later. He wasn't particularly worried about being overlooked himself; while he _technically_ had the ability to take on the position_, _in practice he was still feeling like a fish out of water and knew he would probably do a terrible job at it.

Shepard was sitting across from him, looking just like she always did: calm, focussed, determined. She had been discussing something with Miranda, but when he arrived she turned her gaze on him. When he met that gaze, though, he felt like something had changed. Not with her, but with him.

Ever since she had told him about her death and subsequent resurrection he had been trying to find a way to settle it in his mind. It was suddenly almost like there were two Shepards: the Shepard he knew, the friendly, clumsy, funny woman who could make him smile with a single look in his direction, and the _other _Shepard, the one he was just starting to learn about, the one sitting across from him now. The legendary hero who had survived a thresher maw attack that had killed her entire squad, become the first human Spectre, saved the galaxy from a geth invasion, then died and was brought back to life. God, it sounded like the ridiculous plot of a B-grade movie, but it was blindingly real.

He had to reluctantly admit that the things she had been through scared the hell out of him. The fact that she was a galactic hero intimidated the hell out of him. The fact that she had _died _freaked him _right_ out. But the thing that scared him the most? He was scared that he was scared of all that.

How ridiculous was that? He was scared about the fact that he was intimidated by the Great Commander Shepard. If it would ever be okay to be intimidated by someone, Commander Shepard was that person. So why was he so worried about it?

She gave him a reproachful look, no doubt related to his late arrival, but didn't say anything. He shook away his morose thoughts and gave her an apologetic one in return. As the shuttle began to lift off she got up to speak to the pilot, grabbing one of the overhead straps for balance.

His stomach was twisting in anticipation of the fight ahead. Looking for something to take his mind off his nerves, Nathan found his eyes drawn to Shepard in her new armour. He had been surprised to learn that she favoured the heavier kind. It was some of the best work he had ever seen, put together with impressive craftsmanship. Pieces from Alliance standard stock were combined seamlessly with advanced components from the best armour manufacturers in the galaxy. He saw auxiliary shield power cells, extra kinetic padding, and even what looked like an onboard targeting VI's housing attached to the belt. The hardsuit was coloured a deep, matte black with blood-red piping snaking sparingly over the greaves and gauntlets. The piping matched the brilliant red stripe decorating her armoured right arm and the detail on the N7 insignia on her right chest.

It was impressive, but it was the woman herself who made the armour. Her auburn hair was tied securely back in a regulation bun and her blue eyes gleamed, contrasting sharply with the black of the ceramic plating. His eyes followed every inch of that plating, drinking in the swell of her breasts, the smooth curve of her hips, the obvious strength in her thighs. In a flash he was imagining throwing her up against the wall of the shuttle, pushing a knee between those thighs and…

_Woah. _He blinked, searching quickly for something else to look at. Anything. Indicator lights above the hatch. Perfect.

_Fuck_. And there was his problem. He was incredibly attracted to her. The sight of her lithe curves lined by the hard ceramic of her armour did very uncomfortable but not entirely unpleasant things to his insides.

She was his friend, of course, and he valued that, but he didn't delude himself into thinking he didn't want more. The more he learned about what she had been through, though, what made her the legendary Commander Shepard, the more certain he became that she was completely out of his reach. That scared him just as much as the whole hero thing did.

"Right," Shepard began, turning back around to face her team. She didn't seem to notice anything off about him, thankfully. He shook the last of his distraction away. She was his commanding officer and they were about to head into a goddamn warzone. He needed to focus. "We're going to be coming in hot. General Corinthus is in charge down there; he's pinned down, we need to get to him. LZ is overrun. Cortez is going to clear us a path, we'll mop up the rest. We'll try and take some of the pressure off the turian defenders at the same time. Briggs and I are on point. Kasumi, Miranda, support. Follow my lead. Got it?"

"Aye aye, ma'am," Nathan responded crisply.

Miranda replied with a simple, "Yes, Commander."

Kasumi clapped her hands in glee. "Oh, I've _missed _you, Shep!" she said fervently. Shepard threw her an exasperated look.

Nathan didn't quite know what to make of the two women. Neither had a military background as far as he knew, but both fairly oozed capability and power. Miranda was more overt, with her direct style and openly figure-hugging combat suit – although the suit itself was deceptive, designed as it was to accentuate distracting curves while being made of a carbon-fibre mesh that rivalled the absorption capabilities of Shepard's heavy armour.

Kasumi's strength, on the other hand, was very subtle but there when you were looking for it. Her own suit was just as skin-tight but sported a deep cowl and an almost demure design that nevertheless did nothing to disguise the lean power in her form. The trust Shepard put in the two women was clear. Nathan was looking forward to seeing them fight.

His own armour was the heaviest of the four of them. Traditional Alliance heavy armour with an added bio-feedback governance module and auxiliary shield generators, painted gunmetal grey with the Alliance symbol in white on his upper right chest. He felt energised being back in custom-built armour again, with a full set of guns secured to his back, ready to take on whatever the Reapers could throw at him.

The nerves in the pit of his stomach morphed into a thrill of excitement. He still found it hard believe he was actually on _Commander Shepard's_ ground team.

The Kodiak tilted as they swooped in over the battlefield below. An overhead monitor angled toward the passenger compartment displayed a view of the landing zone captured by the external camera. Cortez opened up with the Kodiak's mass accelerator cannons, their booming echoing through the deck of the shuttle. On the monitor Nathan could see dozens of husks scatter away from the blasts, as well as some of the other monstrous constructs he remembered from the escape from Earth.

Shepard reached up and tapped the monitor with one finger, pointing out each different type of monster they would be fighting. "I received some info on Reaper ground troops from Intelligence last night. Marauder, husk, cannibal… brute. Marauders are shielded, take them out from range. Husks are squishy little bastards but hit hard, don't let them swarm you. Cannibals get some sort of battle frenzy from eating their dead friends, but otherwise they're cannon fodder. If they're grouped we take them all out at once. Brutes… stay the fuck away from brutes, they hit _hard_. They're armoured and take a lot of damage. Focus your fire on them. Get ready."

Nathan got to his feet and grabbed an overhead strap, Kasumi and Miranda following suit. Kasumi raised her arms over her head, stretching, and keyed up her omnitool, while Miranda drew her sub-machine gun and flicked the safety off, blue arcs of biotic power flickering along her arm.

The shuttle came in hard and fast, settling to the ground with a thump. Shepard already had the door halfway open. She leaped out, rifle raised and up in firing position. Nathan followed, boots crunching onto the surface as he ran forward in her wake. Eerie groans and yells echoed across the otherwise silent landscape of the moon.

He drew his assault rifle and flicked it over to incendiary rounds, sighting on a nearby husk and firing as he ran. He scored a lucky headshot but it just jerked and kept coming. Remembering Shepard's advice from back on Earth he raked a stream of bullets down its torso and it fell in a pool of black blood. Shepard's rifle echoed from beside him in staccato bursts.

They advanced toward a low rocky ridge, meagre cover in a sparse environment. Miranda moved into cover at his four o'clock, throwing a warp into the middle of a group of husks. They were wreathed in violet energies as their bodies were contorted by the warp field, writhing and jerking. He took them out one by one, incendiary rounds making short work of the weak flesh. He suppressed a shudder, remembering what it had been like to punch one of them on Earth and feel the flesh caving in around his hand.

Taking his cue from Miranda, he charged an overload and flung it at a husk, wanting to see what effect it would have. The thing staggered, as if it had been mildly shocked by the overload, then kept running toward them. _Okay, only mildly useful. _He finished it off with his rifle and immediately sighted on another one, armour cushioning his shoulder from the rifle's heavy kickback as it fired.

"Briggs," came Shepard's steady voice through his in-ear comm. He glanced over at her with one eye. "Overload, eleven."

Startled, he tried to pick out what she wanted him to overload. _Shit shit shit where is… _He spotted it finally, sighting along her eleven o'clock; a marauder sticking its fringed head out from cover. He queued up another overload, fumbling a little with his omnitool and his rifle, and tossed it at the marauder. It fizzled out on the rock the marauder was using for cover as the creature ducked down again. He winced. _Too slow._

He should have been ready for her call, but at the same time he knew he couldn't dwell on it with bullets flying over his head and eerie groans filling his ears. Miranda had been covering their flank with her SMG; he turned back and picked up the slack, giving her the chance to throw out another warp. The group of husks was close this time, only about ten metres away. He rose up on his haunches, preparing to sprint out and finish them off from melee range.

"Briggs, cover," Shepard's voice was quick, before he had time to move. He quickly ducked back down. Her tone didn't change, but he had the distinct sense he had just been told off for doing something wrong. "Frag out."

A frag grenade sailed over his head to land at the feet of the warped husks. It exploded with a crack, blasting dirt and pieces of husk over their heads. Directly behind them Nathan spotted a pair of marauders ensconced behind cover and firing in their direction. Shepard must have seen them and knew they would be on him if he had left cover. He swore to himself and threw an overload at one of them, shorting out its shields. He finished it off with a couple of shots from his rifle.

"Miranda, overload," Shepard ordered. The same marauder Nathan had missed before stumbled back, shaking as Miranda's heavier overload blanketed it in electricity, bringing down its shields. "Kasumi, go get it."

The thief disappeared, then reappeared a second later driving what looked like a _sword _into the marauder's chest and crowing, "Ha-ha!" Nathan blinked. While she was there, she carved through a pair of cannibals nearby. A second later she was gone again, and back in her spot at Shepard's eight. Quick, neat and smooth.

He was starting to feel a little out of his depth.

Pushing that demoralising thought aside, he grimly kept up his rate of fire, trying to focus on cleaning up those troops that had already been damaged by a warp or a grenade. He listened for Shepard's calls but to his dismay only managed to hit with maybe two thirds of the overloads she asked for, while Kasumi and Miranda were fast and on target each time. He wasn't sure why she kept using his overloads, but she did.

A group of three cannibals lumbered down into their field of fire and Nathan remembered what Shepard had said about making sure they all died at once. "Briggs, overload," she ordered. Determined, he glanced at her, saw she was looking at the cannibals, and tossed out the overload all within the space of a quick second. He scored a direct hit on the cannibal in the middle. _Yes. _"Miranda, warp. Detonate them."

The warp arced out, and hit the same cannibal neatly in the chest. The swirling dark matter spread to either side, and the overload detonated, tearing the cannibal in the centre apart. The explosion knocked the other two off their feet and fire from Shepard's rifle finished them off. Nathan allowed himself a quick, satisfied grin as he looked around, noticing the flood of troops had died down. Kasumi spotted his grin and winked at him from beneath her hood.

He gave himself a quick moment to take a breath. First wave down. He was still standing. His team was still standing.

He wasn't used to this sort of small group combat. His old squad had been much larger, and he had been used to leading from the middle, not taking point. He had a couple of team members who were much better at that. It forced him to make decisions in a split second that he otherwise would have made in four or five. Shepard was there in the commanding role, of course, but there was a difference between consciously following her orders and constantly relying on her to tell him what to do. He had to adjust to the new situation, and fast, or he would become a liability rather than an asset.

Shepard vaulted over her cover and headed for the tall outcropping leading up into the turian outpost in a low run. Nathan followed, rifle held at low ready, Miranda slightly behind and to his right. Kasumi mirrored her on Shepard's left. He leaned up against the ledge, crouching slightly to keep his nose below ground level, and scanned the open field ahead of them.

Not good.

"Well, it's certainly crowded up there," Miranda commented quietly.

The combination of their ground assault and Cortez's opening salvo hadn't reduced the pack as much as he thought it had. He spotted brutes – three of them – as well as a spread of at least a hundred marauders, cannibals and husks. They were currently occupied with harassing the turian base camp, but weren't taking significant losses. On a positive note, neither were the turians. They had hunkered down in their prefab units and fortified their position, and seemed to be holding their own. That couldn't possibly last, however, not with this many Reaper troops waiting to swarm. They would have to do something to take the pressure off the turians, but no way could they take out all of those Reaper troops with just the four of them.

Shepard holstered her assault rifle and started pulling herself up the rock wall. Clearly she had other ideas. "Get back to cover," she ordered.

Nathan reversed his course and, along with Kasumi and Miranda, resumed cover behind the low outcropping. "What's she up to?" he wondered aloud.

Kasumi bumped him with her elbow. "Something crazy, I hope," she said gleefully.

"Shepard doesn't do crazy," Miranda argued. "She'll have a plan."

Nathan glanced at her. "'Doesn't do crazy'? Remind me to tell you some time about how we got off Earth."

Shepard had climbed to the top of the ledge now and was crouching, braced on one knee. She had pulled out another weapon. Nathan couldn't see what it was from here but it was a good deal bigger than a rifle. It had to be a heavy weapon of some sort. Missile launcher?

The Reaper troops had noticed her and were heading towards her, moans increasing in volume as they found a new target. Nathan wondered if they were swarming her now because they recognised her, like they had on Earth. She paid them no attention, quickly and methodically firing off a four-round burst in a wedge in front of her, absorbing the kickback from the weapon with her armoured shoulder. _Yep, missile launcher_.

Four missiles arced out over the heads of the constructs. Without waiting for them to land, Shepard tucked the missile launcher up onto the back of her armour again and _jumped _off the ledge. She hit the ground, rolled, and the missiles detonated.

The ground shook, and up on the ledge gouts of dirt and gravel fountained up into the air. As Shepard got to her feet and sprinted back towards them, dazed Reaper constructs began dropping and falling from the ledge behind her.

Nathan popped a thermal clip and started to lay down covering fire. Many of the constructs went down quickly, having been injured in the missile blasts, but some seemed relatively unhurt and keen to catch up to Shepard. He worked with Miranda and Kasumi to keep them back as shots pinged off Shepard's enhanced shields. He and Miranda were starting to get into a rhythm. Miranda would throw out an overload and he would burst her target down with rifle fire, or he would be the one to overload and she would finish it off with a warp detonation. They worked well together.

Shepard hurdled into cover just as her shields dissipated. She hunkered down, letting them recharge. Nathan noted that she was barely even breathing heavily after a seventy metre sprint in full heavy armour. She clearly hadn't been exaggerating about her Cerberus upgrades.

Shields fully charged again, she popped back up and started firing, calling for warps, overloads and Kasumi's shadow strike at a cracking rate as the Reaper forces converged on their position. Nathan stepped it up, forcing his focus to a narrow kill zone around and before him. He tossed out overload after overload, alternating with Kasumi so Miranda would be free to use her warp to detonate where she could. Shepard was getting insanely precise kills, one after the other, economical three-round bursts from her assault rifle sending gobs of cannibal flesh flying from all the way back at the ledge seventy metres away. She never seemed to miss, and her rate of fire was faster than anything he had ever seen before. She had been good on Earth, but now she was amazing. Any rustiness she might have claimed to be feeling was clearly long gone.

Nathan was sneaking another glance at Shepard when he spotted the brute leaping off the ledge and crouching to charge. There was no way their meagre cover would stand up to that. "Look out!" he yelled, diving off to the side as the monstrous thing stampeded towards them, eating up the seventy metre stretch in bare seconds.

He hit the dirt hard, armour crunching under his shoulder as the brute crashed into the low rock, all but disintegrating their cover. Miranda had nimbly scrambled away and was still on her feet, but the charge had angled more towards Shepard and Kasumi and they hadn't had such luck. Kasumi had also hit the dirt, cowl ripped off and caught beneath her head, but she was already rolling over, pistol out and ready to fire.

Shepard had spun and dive-rolled back from cover, but hadn't gained much distance. Nathan managed to squeeze off a quick burst with incendiary rounds before the brute roared and charged again, directly at Shepard this time. To his horror, she stood her ground.

At the last second, she dove under its clawed hands as they reached for her small frame, tumbling past and rising smoothly to her feet. "Hit it," she ordered, raising her own rifle and unleashing a salvo of incendiary rounds at its back. Nathan followed suit, but the brute quickly regained awareness and swung around, shrugging the hail of slugs off as though they were a light rain and bearing down on Shepard again.

Again she waited, and again at the last second she leaped aside. "Keep everything else off me," she yelled above the sound of gunfire, and Nathan tore his eyes off her to find Miranda and Kasumi already hard-pressed to hold back a group of marauders that had managed to creep up on them. The two women were darting around, dodging and rolling to compensate for the lack of cover.

He powered up his extra shields and ran forward, trying to draw their fire. Kasumi and Miranda moved to put his more powerful shields between them and the marauders. He threw an overload at the nearest one and burst it down, then stalked toward them quickly, maintaining his rate of fire to keep them off balance. His shields wouldn't hold for much longer, even reinforced as they were, but he shouldn't need them to. He saw an overload go off on another one and sprinted for it, releasing his omniblade as he ran. He caught it before it could compensate for the disorientation of the overload and gutted it up close with the orange blade. Black blood splattered over his armour as the marauder spasmed and fell, a leaking hole in its abdomen. Nathan spun to the other one, but Kasumi and Miranda had already finished it off. For the moment, they were clear.

His eyes darted back to Shepard, who was yanking her own omniblade out of the dead brute's back and powering it down. Blood covered one side of her face and ran down her arm, blurring the N7 stripe, but she didn't appear to be favouring the arm in a way that would indicate she had been injured. He felt a rush of relief. "Briggs, check out what's left," she ordered, nodding towards the ledge that lead up to the turian base camp.

"Aye aye, ma'am," he replied, jogging over the mangled remains of the Reaper forces they had destroyed. Mentally he tried to wrap his head around the aftermath as he ran. There had to be more than fifty dead constructs here, all decimated by a four-person squad. His old twelve-soldier squad would have been hard-pressed to take this many out, but then, after seeing them in action he knew Kasumi and Miranda would be worth at least three ordinary soldiers each. And Shepard?

The woman was a force of nature. One moment she was calmly sniping from cover with what had to be close to one hundred percent accuracy, the next she was retracting her omniblade and wiping the blood from her face after eviscerating a brute solo_. _In heavy armour, with three guns and a missile launcher on her back. And throughout it all, she knew exactly what was happening on the battlefield and how best to direct her squad to destroy the enemy as quickly and efficiently as possible.

It was all starting to fit together now. The stories were all true. Nothing had been exaggerated. She really was _that good_. Just hearing her steady voice over the comm and seeing that bright N7 stripe, knowing she was there overseeing the battle and keeping them all safe made him more confident and more tightly focussed. He felt like he could do anything with Commander Shepard as his CO.

He pressed himself up against the ledge and looked out over the open field leading to the turian camp. What few troops remained had been cleaned up by the turians, including the other two brutes. "Looks clear, ma'am," he reported over the comm.

She ran up beside him and set her foot into a crack in the rock so she could hoist herself up high enough to see. "Yep, let's go," she confirmed. Kasumi and Miranda followed and they all mounted the rocky shelf, guns up and ready as soon as they reached the top. The turians spotted them and one of them waved. Shepard waved back and started towards them.

Nathan turned to check their six as they headed toward the turian camp, and stopped in his tracks. He felt all the blood drain from his face. All his exulting thoughts suddenly seemed silly and pointless.

His voice was hoarse as he said, "Shepard… we're fucked."

* * *

Shepard spun on her heel. She saw immediately what Nathan was talking about.

A Reaper destroyer was swiftly, silently, coming in to land not more than a couple hundred metres away. Almost close enough to cast a shadow over them.

_Holy fuck._

In a split second she considered her options.

They could run the fuck away to either side, spread out, risk the rocky, mountainous terrain and try to hide.

Bad idea. The plasma beam would obliterate any cover they found within seconds.

They could run the fuck away in the direction of the turian base camp.

Another bad idea. It was the only solid target within the theoretical range of the Reaper. It would be gone in seconds.

They could run the fuck _toward _the Reaper.

That was the _worst _idea. They would be sitting ducks. They would be dead in seconds.

They were fucked.

She wasn't going to just stand there and wait to die though, no matter how futile running might be. "_Move," _she yelled, darting away from her previous position. Her team scattered.

She watched over her shoulder as she ran, helpless fury rising in her chest, as the glowing red eye in the middle of the Reaper's superstructure irised open. Plasma gathered, coalesced and lanced out…

…over their heads, ripping through a turian prefab building like it was paper. Pieces of the building and the crates of supplies that had been stored within it exploded out into the rest of the camp while turians threw themselves into cover.

It had _only _caught that one building. And the turians had been able to duck out of the way.

Shepard stopped running, a triumphant grin spreading across her lips.

"It's weaker than the capital ships," she called over the sound of the Reaper destroyer's klaxon. "Its weapon is smaller. We can't outrun it but we can sure as hell outmanoeuvre it. Stay spread out and dance, people!"

The next beam hit the edge of the shelf they had just climbed over and roared up the ground towards them. Shepard dove, certain she could feel the searing heat at her back even through her armour. She searched around for some sort of extended cover, but knew it would be a bad idea to hide. If she couldn't see the beam, she couldn't get out of the way, and none of this rock would stop a high-powered plasma beam. It was a lot smaller than a Reaper capital ship's weapon but it had still just taken out a small building.

She tapped her earpiece. "Joker! You seeing this?" she called, bouncing on her toes a little as she waited for the next attack. Thankfully the beam seemed to take a little while to recharge.

"_Hold on, Commander, I'm coming in to try and distract it!"_

Fuck, she didn't like that idea, but if he hadn't already been doing it she would still have suggested it herself. There was no way Cortez could get in to pick them up with the Reaper just waiting for a nice big stationary target like a landing shuttle to appear. But Joker could fly circles around giant ships with big laser beams; he had practiced enough with the Collectors. Maybe with him distracting it in the _Normandy_… "Cortez, can you find somewhere within running distance to land?"

"_It'll be dicey, ma'am," _Cortez replied, and she heard the waver in his voice. He didn't think he could do it, but he would try anyway.

Another plasma beam lanced out, scoring the ground right in the middle of their little group. Briggs was closest, and moved too slowly. He was thrown to the ground and covered in dirt kicked up by the beam. If it had been a metre to the left… She swore to herself. That had been way too close. The man was too damn big and slow. So far he had managed to barely avoid two beams but she wouldn't put money on a third.

She sprinted over to him and hauled him to his feet, keeping a firm grip on his arm. "Are you trying to get yourself killed, Lieutenant?" she shouted into his face. "Fucking pay attention!"

His eyes widened as he yelled, "Ma'am! No, ma'am!" in reply. Good, he needed to be on edge.

Another beam hit over their heads and scored the ground into the turian camp, giving them a momentary reprieve. The turians had scattered, following their lead and dancing around the deadly beam. She hoped none had been caught. Shepard kept a bruising grip on Nathan's arm, knowing he wouldn't feel it through his armour, and searched the sky for the _Normandy_.

Right on cue, a brilliant white and blue hull flashed across the Reaper's field of vision, Thanix cannon raking ineffectually across its flanks. The destroyer didn't seem to notice, unleashing another pillar of plasma on the ground team. It seemed to consider them a higher priority target than the turian camp. Shepard didn't much like the implications of that. The Collectors had often targeted her personally. She assumed that had been at Harbinger's direction. Was this destroyer doing the same thing?

As the beam hit ground she darted to the side, yanking on Nathan's arm and sending them both tumbling out of the way. "Fuck sake, Shepard—" he grumbled, heaving himself to his feet.

She glared at him, grabbing his arm again. "Shut it, Lieutenant," she warned, eyes on the sky again. If there was a chance he wouldn't be able to get out of the way in time by himself, she would make sure that he did. She didn't give a shit if his dignity was bruised along the way.

The _Normandy_ came around for another pass, trying for the legs this time, but again, it didn't seem to bother the Reaper. This time the beam scored a wide gouge across the dirt where Kasumi was running, sending her skidding to a halt and darting back in the other direction. The nimble thief made it look like art.

"Shepard!" Miranda suddenly gasped over the comm. "Remember the human Reaper?"

"Yeah, it was lots of fun. This is not the time for nostalgia, Miranda," Shepard growled as the _Normandy_ made another useless pass.

"_No, _Shepard, remember its weaknesses?" Miranda insisted.

"This thing doesn't have feeding tubes—" Shepard stopped, realisation dawning. She clapped a hand to her ear. "Joker! Go for the weapons port when it opens!"

She barely heard a double-click over the comm in confirmation – Joker must have been too busy concentrating on flying to talk – as another stream of plasma hit the ground right in front of them. She shoved Nathan hard to the side and crashed into him, armour grating with the impact. He twisted as he fell and landed flat on his back. She rebounded off him with a _thunk_, elbow slamming into the ground. She sucked in a sharp breath. Her armour absorbed the impact to her elbow but couldn't compensate for the wrench of her shoulder. They both narrowly missed the beam. _Better to be close for two than too late for one. _She hauled herself to her feet, snatching Nathan's arm again and pulling him with her, eyes glued to the sky.

Joker would have to wait for it to fire again, which meant they would have to dodge again, she thought, balancing on the balls of her feet. There was no guarantee this would work. There was no guarantee he would even hit it – although with Joker flying and EDI assisting with targeting there was a much better chance than she would otherwise have given it. She glanced at Miranda and Kasumi. Both were on their feet, staring up at the Reaper, ready to move just as she was.

The weapons port irised open and glowed with heat. From the corner of her eye Shepard caught a glimpse of the _Normandy_ as fire from Palaven reflected off its hull, roaring through the atmosphere over their heads. Joker was angling for a frontal approach, trying to give EDI the best chance of hitting the port.

The plasma cannon fired, and the _Normandy_ opened up with the thanix. Shepard couldn't watch it; the plasma beam had hit ground right near Miranda. Miranda dived, skidding across the dirt, then rolled neatly to her feet. Perfect, as always.

Shepard had a single moment to glance up and see the molten gold slug from the Thanix cannon explode as it hit the Reaper's weapons port dead centre. She squinted as fire blossomed out from the impact, shaking the Reaper and sending it crashing to its knees. The crimson light faded, and the Reaper collapsed, ground shuddering as it hit.

_Yes. _Beside her, Nathan whooped in triumph. Shepard let out a breath and grinned as she tapped her ear, releasing Nathan's arm. "Good work, EDI, Joker. Cortez, get in here and pick us up before that thing recovers."

"Holy shit!" Nathan was breathing giddily. "Holy _shit._"

Miranda and Kasumi jogged over. "I knew I'd get to see some excitement with you, Shep," Kasumi said happily.

"I think you owe this one to Miranda," Shepard corrected her.

Miranda brushed her hair back out of her face, picking out a clump of dirt. "It was only logical to assume Reapers would all have similar weak points."

"_Miranda," _Shepard chided. "Take the compliment, XO. Good thinking."

Miranda shrugged, but allowed a small pleased smile to touch her lips. "Thank you, Shepard."

Nathan was standing still, hands on hips, shaking his head. He had been staring at the downed Reaper in awe, an excited grin on his face, but now he looked over and met her eyes. "I just—I don't—Is this how a normal mission usually goes for you, Shepard?" he finally asked.

She felt her lips twist in a wry smile. "Pretty much," she replied, patting him on the shoulder. "You'll get used to it."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Somehow I doubt that. Wait—Miranda said… You've fought a Reaper_ on foot _before? And _won?"_

"She has," Miranda confirmed, with a tiny hint of pride. Shepard threw her a look of exasperation. That hint of pride had more to do with Miranda's satisfaction with her own accomplishment of bringing Shepard back to life than anything Shepard herself did.

"Twice," Kasumi added. Nathan raised his eyebrows.

Twice? Oh. Sovereign too. "That doesn't really count," she argued as the shuttle swung into view overhead and lowered to the ground. "Joker and the fleet took Sovereign out." She eyed the motionless Reaper. It didn't move, but she didn't trust for a second that it had been completely disabled. "Come on, let's get out of here." She jogged over to the shuttle and waited while her team boarded. She glanced over at the turian base camp and saw they were bugging out too. Satisfied, she jumped in, slapping the sensor to close the hatch behind her.

Once they were all seated, Nathan spoke up again from beside her. "Sovereign? Wasn't that a geth ship?" he asked.

Miranda snorted. "Of course not. It was a Reaper."

Shepard tuned them out as Miranda and Kasumi explained the battle for the Citadel and the full story of their fight against the Collectors to an incredulous Nathan. She had lived it; she didn't need to hear it again. There was still work to do. She needed to find out what had happened to the turian Primarch. She tapped her earpiece and called for EDI.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

As soon as the shuttle touched down Shepard swung herself out and headed for the bridge, glad to escape the history lesson Miranda and Kasumi were giving Nathan. Miranda in particular tended to talk up Shepard's role in events a little more than necessary, which made it decidedly uncomfortable for Shepard to listen to. Besides, the three of them seemed to be getting along well, which was good to see, so she wanted to leave them to their own devices a bit without their CO hovering around. She had wanted to show Nathan around the ship a bit more, take him to meet people, but she just hadn't had the chance, and she could tell he had been feeling out of place. Hopefully getting to know Miranda and Kasumi would help with that.

She stopped by the armoury to clean the blood off her face and armour before she entered the main crew areas. Everyone aboard the ship knew what the ground team was doing when they went ashore, but there was no reason to confront them with gore up close. None of them were marines.

She headed for the elevator and the CIC, raising a finger to her ear as she walked. "EDI, any word from General Corinthus?"

EDI responded into her earpiece rather than the overhead speakers. "_Yes, Shepard. He is uninjured, and he has located the new turian Primarch, General Victus. He has provided me with the coordinates of Victus' location."_

On the shuttle Shepard had spoken with Corinthus and discovered Primarch Fedorian's ship had been destroyed and all aboard killed. The general had promised to find out who the new Primarch was and get back to her. "Hold on to those for the moment. Is it possible for you to patch me through to Victus?" Arriving on the CIC floor, Shepard crossed the CIC and jogged up the stairs leading to the cockpit.

"_Yes. Would you like me to do so?"_

"One moment, EDI." The cockpit door slid open, revealing Joker in his usual spot in the pilot's couch. As she entered he craned his neck to see her without removing his hands from the controls. The _Normandy_ was operating under full stealth and so far had managed to avoid any Reaper attention. If the controls had been physical, she knew he would have had a death grip on them. "Joker, how are we doing?" she asked, resting a hand on the back of his seat.

"So far we're sweet, Commander," he replied, voice betraying his tension. "But I wouldn't bet on our stealth systems holding up against detection by Reapers if they decide they really want to look for us. The Collectors could see right through them."

"We won't be here much longer," she reassured him. "Joker… that was some fine flying down there. Good job."

He tossed her a quick, cocky grin. "It's what I do, Commander."

She dropped down into the co-pilot's chair and powered up one of the idle monitors. "EDI, connect me to Primarch Victus."

After a minute or so the image of an older turian with distinct white clan markings appeared on the monitor. She straightened, suddenly wishing she had taken a moment to check her hair as well as remove the blood and guts from her armour. "Primarch, thank you for speaking with me."

"_Commander Shepard." _His voice was an even growl somewhat reminiscent of her old friend Garrus, she noted wistfully. "_It is an honour to meet you."_

She shook her head. "The honour is all mine, Primarch. Are you safe?"

"_For the moment. That was an impressive display earlier, Commander. Destroying that Reaper."_

Shepard had been certain beyond all doubt that the Reaper would be up and on them again before they could make it back to the _Normandy_, but she was overwhelmingly glad to be proven wrong. It had instead lain silent and abandoned on the dusty surface of Menae until the turians gathered enough confidence to approach. They now swarmed it, trying to hurriedly glean as much knowledge as possible from its inert form. She still worried it would get up again but that seemed less and less likely as time went on.

"Thank you, sir. My pilot did an excellent job," she replied. She pretended not to notice Joker's unashamedly satisfied expression. "The destruction of that Reaper is what I wanted to talk to you about. As you may be aware, I have been given ambassadorial privileges for the Alliance. In that capacity I would like to invite you aboard the _Normandy_ for further discussions." The formal words felt awkward leaving her mouth, and she knew they probably sounded awkward too. _That's what you get for ordering a soldier to pretend to be a diplomat, Hackett, _she thought to herself.

Victus studied her for a long moment. "_I have heard that Earth is under the same pressure as Palaven. I offer my sympathy, but I must warn you that I can offer no more than that."_

His words were a lot smoother than hers, but he didn't so much as twitch at her verbal clumsiness. She was grateful. She supposed that had a lot to do with his being a soldier suddenly shoehorned into being a diplomat too.

She nodded. She had been expecting his response. "I understand your fleet is needed here at Palaven right now, sir. I may have an idea that could help with that." She had a plan, actually. A big, ambitious, risky plan. But if they could pull it off…

Victus' mandibles shifted, and she wished she was better at reading turian expressions. "_That sounds… intriguing. All right, Commander, the least I can do is agree to speak with you after you saved the lives of General Corinthus and his men."_

"Thank you, sir. The General has supplied me with your coordinates. I'll send a shuttle down to pick you up." She nodded to Joker, who opened a comm channel and quietly arranged it.

"_I appreciate it. Commander, I have an old friend of yours down here with me as well. He'll want to accompany me."_

The professional, polite façade Shepard had adopted while speaking with the Primarch gave way to genuine happiness as Garrus Vakarian stepped into view of the camera. _Garrus!_ "Garrus is always welcome aboard the _Normandy_, sir," she replied, beaming and not bothering to hide it.

After exchanging the usual pleasantries Shepard broke the connection, leaned back in her chair and allowed a slow smile to spread across her face as she closed her eyes for a moment. Seeing Garrus had brought back the giddy, hopeful feeling she had experienced as that Reaper went down on the surface of Menae. Hope… she hadn't felt that in quite some time.

"Good day, Commander?" Joker asked lightly.

"Hell of a good day, Joker," she murmured in reply without opening her eyes.

Half an hour later she had showered and changed into dress blues, greeted the Primarch and Garrus as they came onboard, and was now standing at attention before the QEC terminal. Seeing Garrus step off the shuttle had improved her mood substantially, and it was already in a pretty good place. Now he stood just outside the communications room as she delivered her report to Admiral Hackett.

"_Did I hear you right, Shepard? You took out a Reaper on foot?"_

She shifted uncomfortably and shook her head. "No, sir. Joker—Flight Lieutenant Moreau—and the _Normandy_ took it out. The ground team and I just got the hell out of its way."

"_You know very well that the _Normandy_ destroying a Reaper is the same thing as _you_ destroying a Reaper. To the galaxy at large, anyway."_

She crossed her arms over her chest self-consciously and glanced back over her shoulder at Garrus. His mandibles flared in something she judged to be amusement. She scowled at him and turned back to Hackett. "All right, sir. Whatever they want to say."

"_Shepard, you know how important morale is. Don't whinge at me. I don't have time to coddle you."_

"Uh… sorry, Admiral," she recovered quickly, surprised at the rebuke. He usually indulged her when she grumbled about the machinations of Alliance PR. She liked to think it was because he knew she would have her say and then get on with the job, because she understood good PR was a necessary evil. But this time he clearly didn't have the tolerance for it.

He was pacing, sometimes moving just outside of camera range. "_The Reaper stayed down?"_

She nodded. "Yes, sir. It has so far. EDI hasn't been able to provide me with a conclusive answer as to why, but her best guess is that the impact caused an overload or some sort of feedback within its systems. It knocked out all power."

"_So it may not be dead, just disabled? It might 'wake up' at any moment?"_

"We don't know, sir. Best case scenario, its power core may have been completely destroyed. The turians are on-site investigating further."

"_I trust they're taking precautions against indoctrination."_

"Of course. But they say the chance to get a closer look is too good to pass up."

He grunted. "_They're right about that. All right, this is good information, Shepard. Good work. Let me know if the turians find anything."_

"Will do, sir."

"_How are you progressing with your diplomatic assignment? I assume destroying that Reaper helped you make a bit of headway with the turians."_

She shifted her weight again and kept any negativity from her tone, knowing the Admiral wasn't in the mood for any more grumbling from her. "I hope so. Primarch Victus is on board the _Normandy_ to discuss what we can do about Palaven. If we can remove the need for the turian fleet to be at Palaven, we'll have them for Earth."

Hackett raised an eyebrow and made an impatient gesture. _"Come on, Shepard, don't make me fish for information. I know you have a plan. What is it?"_

Garrus made an irritated sound behind her, muttering something unflattering about Hackett. She didn't turn to look at him this time. "We need to take advantage of the Reapers' weakness before they have a chance to correct it. I want to push them off Palaven entirely. As it stands, however, we don't have the ground troops or the ships to do that. I propose to use my past relationship with Urdnot Wrex to solicit the aid of the krogan on the ground. In space, I want to borrow the Third Fleet."

Shepard gamely held the Admiral's stare. It was an ambitious plan, she knew, but it had a lot of merit. With the Reapers divided and a weakness revealed, they would never get a chance like this again. If the Crucible failed and they didn't take advantage of this moment, they would be facing the full complement of Reaper forces from a severely weakened platform. They had to thin their numbers while they could.

Even so, it would be a huge risk to commit such a large percentage of the galaxy's potential forces to a battle that would not ultimately decide the war. But Hackett wasn't one to agree to an action unless the risk was worth the payout. And unlike her, he was accustomed to strategizing with full fleets and armies. Hackett was the foremost human tactician in the galaxy and if he backed her it would be an assurance that her plan was good.

Hackett folded an arm around his waist and rested an elbow on it, rubbing the side of his chin. _"Don't ask for much, do you Shepard?"_

"I could say the same for you, sir," she replied boldly. Garrus snickered quietly.

He paced for a moment, thoughtful, then finally the corner of his mouth twitched in what she thought was _nearly _a smile. _"All right, Shepard, if you can get the krogan, you'll have the Third."_

A thrill of excitement rushed through her body. "Thank you, sir."

"_Admiral Singh will have the command in space, but I want you in charge on the ground. To facilitate that, you can drop the Lieutenant from your title as of now, Commander."_

Shepard's eyebrows flew up. _Holy_… He had just leaped her forward three separate ranks, past Captain. Belatedly, she remembered to raise her hand and salute. "I… uh, thank you, sir."

"_Close your mouth, Shepard, you look like one of those fish of yours," _he grumbled. _"It's past time you were promoted. You deserve it. Send me a comprehensive rundown of the turian forces and your initial plans for the ground forces as soon as you can. Keep me updated. Hackett out."_

The QEC shut down, the hologram fading away. Shepard blinked at the empty wall, not quite able to move just yet.

"Damn," Garrus drawled. "Can he do that?"

"I'm… not entirely sure," Shepard admitted as she stepped away from the comm terminal, still shocked. "But if you think about it, who's still alive in the Alliance to tell him he can't?"

Garrus' mandibles fluttered in what she thought might be a wince. "Heh. Good point."

She shook her head, pushing stunned thoughts of her promotion aside. "It doesn't matter what my rank is. It doesn't change what I have to do." She looked up at Garrus as they started walking toward the conference room where Victus was waiting. "You want in?" she asked.

He huffed. "I think I'm insulted you had to ask me that, Shepard."

By the time he arrived back on the _Normandy_, Nathan had received a crash course in _real _history. Not the carefully spun tales the Council had approved and disseminated for the masses, but the gritty reality of how Shepard had managed to save the galaxy from the Reapers _twice _already – three times if you counted Aratoht – with the wider galactic community none the wiser. Kasumi and Miranda hadn't known her before she died, during the fight against Saren and Sovereign, but they both had alternative means of finding out the truth and they had put them to use quite effectively.

He found it hard to wrap his head around any of it. The fact that Shepard had learned about the Reapers all the way back on Eden Prime three years ago and had been carrying that knowledge around with her ever since, constantly fighting for someone, _anyone_ in power to listen to her and believe her, was… incredible. He couldn't imagine constantly being told that something you knew was true beyond a shadow of a doubt was actually a delusion. He _definitely _couldn't imagine being forced to keep quiet and do your job, despite being absolutely certain that keeping quiet would cost billions of innocent people their lives.

In particular, he found it hard to believe that the Citadel Council had completely dismissed her findings over the years. She had presented them with a consistent stream of evidence in the form of recordings, data and even a Reaper conveniently destroyed on their doorstep, and yet they still refused to listen. He didn't understand it.

When he mentioned that to Miranda, she had told him about a night she and Shepard had stayed up late chatting over glasses of wine. The two of them had discussed it. Shepard had been just as perplexed at the time, but Miranda had been able to put it into perspective. It wasn't that the Council didn't believe Shepard, and they certainly didn't have some sort of personal grudge against her, but it was their responsibility to play the _very_ long game. Shepard couldn't give them a solid timeline for the Reapers' arrival and they knew they couldn't possibly maintain a state bordering on martial law indefinitely. Criminals would take advantage of people's desire to get around restrictions. The leaders of the militaries of the galaxy ran the risk of becoming restless and eager to put their heightened strength to good – or not so good – use. Civilians would begin to chafe under the harsher living conditions and rebellions would start to fester.

None of this would happen in a year, or even two or three, but give it five years and the galaxy would be teetering on the brink of instability. The Council wouldn't be able to stop it. As infuriating as their inaction was to everyone who knew the truth about the Reapers, including Miranda herself, the ex-Cerberus operative had admitted that she could understand their point of view.

Nathan had to grudgingly admit that he could see the logic too, but he still thought something could have been done other than completely ignoring the threat. _Anything_ other than treating the woman who had saved billions of lives, including their own, like a pariah. He couldn't believe they had called her deluded and arranged for the Alliance to send her out to the far reaches of the galaxy to hunt leftover geth. Where she had, of course, died.

When Shepard's death had been mentioned, Miranda had refused to elaborate on the particulars, stating that it was too personal and should be left up to Shepard herself to explain, should she be willing to do so. Nathan had to respect that. If he was truthful, he didn't particularly want to know too many more details beyond what Shepard had already told him.

The stories of Kasumi and Miranda's time aboard the _Normandy_ with Shepard, fighting the Collectors, were much more upbeat. Kasumi eagerly told him about the time she, Miranda and Shepard had rescued Garrus Vakarian from a sniper's perch in an abandoned apartment building on Omega by completely destroying _three_ entire mercenary outfits. If that wasn't remarkable enough, Nathan had been thoroughly impressed to learn that Garrus had survived for three days alone, and over that time he had killed an equivalent number to the total they had taken out as a group during the final standoff. Garrus sounded like a hell of a badass.

Miranda came close to waxing lyrical about the tactical marvel Shepard had created from the situation, fluidly and efficiently cutting off every avenue of attack the mercenaries employed, even destroying a gunship on foot after it had almost killed Garrus. Nathan found it amusing, the way Miranda spoke about Shepard's skill on the battlefield. Miranda seemed almost _motherly _toward the Commander. She doted on the woman as though she believed she had the right to take credit for her actions in some part, like a mother proud of her child's accomplishments. Nathan supposed it made a macabre sort of sense, seeing as how Miranda had been the operative in charge of the Lazarus project and therefore responsible for bringing Shepard back to life.

Shepard herself had mostly stayed out of the conversation on the shuttle, either talking with EDI or Joker via her in-ear comm or sitting with Steve Cortez in the cockpit. Nathan did notice the occasional exasperated glance tossed over her shoulder in their direction, however, particularly when Miranda was talking.

When he thought he could get away with no one seeing what he was doing, Nathan had cast numerous glances at Shepard. He watched her go about her business, talking with Cortez, or EDI via comm, armoured boots casually up on the console. He wondered how she wasn't a gibbering mess after everything she had been through. He understood a lot better now how she had come to be in that chair, on this shuttle, on the _Normandy_ at the head of the war against the Reapers. He had already known that she had chosen to destroy the Alpha relay to buy the galaxy six months to prepare for the arrival of the Reapers but he hadn't understood everything that had led up to it. He felt as though he could finally let any lingering doubt he was harbouring over that decision go.

Sadly they arrived back on the _Normandy_ before Kasumi and Miranda could finish describing the mission to recruit a salarian scientist named Mordin Solus. Shepard hurried off as soon as they docked the shuttle, having started another conversation with EDI over the comm regarding the turian Primarch. Nathan knew she had far more important things to do than just hang out with him, but he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed as he watched her go. He was still riding the high that had come with killing a Reaper and he really wanted to share it with her.

Over the past few months he had grown used to the idea that she was the person he most wanted to share important – and unimportant – thoughts and events with, even if he didn't think about it in so many words. He enjoyed talking with her, joking with her, teasing her. He never seemed to get tired of any of that, but he _particularly _enjoyed teasing her. He loved seeing how she would react. Sometimes she would give him a wry look, or maybe an exasperated one, or she would roll her eyes, and each morphed her expressive face into something new and interesting. And then she would probably fire off some sort of comeback. Sometimes it would be a good one, but more often than not it would be _terrible_, truly horrible, and she would wrinkle her nose as if she smelled something off even as she said it. He would laugh, and she would usually smile. He loved her smile. He loved making her laugh. He loved just beingaround her.

He sighed and headed for the crew showers. He was attracted to her, yeah, but it wasn't just that. He was falling for her. Hard. He didn't care that she was some legendary galactic hero. He didn't care that she had died and been brought back to life. He didn't care that she was probably with Major Alenko. He was falling anyway.

Before he could stop himself, he snorted aloud in laughter. Of all the women he could have developed feelings for, he had managed to fall for _Commander fucking Shepard_.

Kasumi and Miranda looked at him strangely as they boarded the elevator together, but he just shook his head, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

"Are you all right?" Miranda asked, managing to turn a concerned question into an accusation.

"I'm fine, I just had an itchy throat," he told her lamely.

She gave him a dubious look but appeared to let it go. Thankfully they reached the crew deck quickly. As they exited the elevator and made to split up, Nathan heading for the crew quarters and Miranda for the XO's cabin, Kasumi stopped them. "I want both of you in the mess in an hour," she said. "We need to celebrate killing that Reaper."

Miranda raised an eyebrow. "We do? I shouldn't think people would be interested in celebrating something that will no doubt become commonplace."

"Of _course _we do, _XO_," Kasumi replied, emphasising the 'XO' as if it was obvious and Miranda should really know that, in her position. "Everyone's seen the devastation those things are causing on Earth. This is an Alliance crew. They need a chance to cheer about taking one of them down."

Miranda cocked her head to the side thoughtfully. "That does make a certain amount of sense from a crew morale perspective. All right, Kasumi, I'll be there."

Kasumi smiled and turned to Nathan. "And you, Lieutenant Briggs?" she asked.

Party? Hell yes. If he couldn't talk to Shepard about taking the Reaper out, this was the next best thing. "I'm in," he told her.

"Excellent." She clapped her hands together decisively. "Make sure you tell everyone you can."

"Shouldn't you run this by the Commander?" Miranda pointed out. "If you're going to invite the whole ship, that is."

Kasumi waved away her objection. "Shep won't mind, and besides, I have the XO's permission." Miranda raised an eyebrow. Kasumi grinned broadly. "Don't worry so much. Just leave it to me."

With that, she headed off down the corridor toward the Port Observation lounge. Nathan exchanged glances with Miranda. He shrugged, and Miranda shook her head.

"Was she like this during the Collector mission?" Nathan asked.

"She was," Miranda replied. "Strangely though, I think it was _good _for us. She did make a good point about morale, and I can see Shepard agreeing with that."

Nathan wasn't about to go and tattle on one of his crewmates to the commander even if she was his friend. "Oh well, like she said, leave it to her. I'm not going to say no to a party."

Miranda rolled her eyes and headed off to her cabin. Nathan tossed her a wave and hurried off to the showers. He shucked and cleaned his armour in record time, stowing it carefully in his crew locker. Then he sung his way through the shower, earning himself a pained look from Crewman Rogers over the cubicle wall as he finished his own shower and left. Nathan didn't care. He sang louder.

He was on a ship with Commander Shepard and they had just killed a Reaper.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

Shepard leaned back in her chair, away from the terminal on her desk, and stretched her arms up over her head with a yawn. She experimentally rolled the shoulder she had wrenched on Menae. It wasn't feeling too bad. It was the same shoulder that had been giving her problems since the mission against the Collectors, but she had managed to get medi-gel on it quickly so with any luck the new strain wouldn't aggravate the old one.

Sitting hunched over in front of a terminal for hours at a time had never done her body any good, though. Especially when it involved typing. She had never been able to type very quickly. She flexed her right hand, expecting a little pain, but it was almost completely healed. It only twinged, even after what had to have been at least two straight hours of typing. She wished she could have switched over to audio logging, but the security applied to classified mission reports prevented that.

She was sure she had never had to type up so many reports at once before in her entire military career. There had been the rundown of the Menae mission, the collation of her own specific observations regarding the Reaper with those of the turians, and the outline of her plan to push the Reapers off Menae, to name a few. After that, of course, she had had to summarise her discussion with Primarch Victus, including his cautious agreement with her plan despite the reservations he expressed over bringing the krogan into it. She had found him to be quite a forward thinker and very pragmatic when it came to allying the turian people with their old adversaries. After she was finished with all that, she completed a brief outline of her next mission – to go to Tuchanka and convince her old friend Wrex to be as pragmatic as Victus. Which would no doubt be all kinds of fun.

But at least she was finally finished now, and they were a couple of hours into the trip to Tuchanka. With a satisfied noise she hit the send button. Specialist Traynor would figure out how best to get it all to Hackett through the damaged comm buoy system.

Glancing at the chrono, she realised she had completely missed dinner. Right on cue, her stomach rumbled obligingly. She grumbled to herself and headed down to the crew deck, hoping the new mess sergeant had kept something aside for her. The man was a miracle worker. Even the best quality ingredients, such as what the _Normandy_ had been stocked with by the Alliance provisioning chief on the Citadel, had to be frozen or broken down for long-term shipboard usage. The new cook had managed to consistently produce tasty, filling meals regardless. As much as she had liked Mess Sergeant Gardner, the new guy simply outclassed him.

As she stepped out of the elevator on the crew deck she was mid-stretch, elbow raised in the air. She walked straight into a wall of noise. Someone had managed to pipe some upbeat music with a lot of heavy bass into the area; the volume would probably have had the deck rattling beneath her feet if the _Normandy_ wasn't such a state-of-the-art warship and therefore built exceptionally sturdily. Blinking in surprise, she lowered her arm and cautiously made her way around the divider separating the elevator from the mess itself.

Nearly the whole crew was crowded into the common area. There had to be at least fifty people there, spilling up onto the gangway leading to the main battery and standing clumped in groups around the mess tables. She spotted James and Zaeed at one of the tables having what looked like an arm-wrestling match while Traynor and the new pilot Cortez looked on. As she watched, Traynor had a quick conversation with one of the new crew members they had picked up on the Citadel then made a notation on a small datapad. If Shepard didn't know better, she would have thought Traynor had just taken a bet.

Engineers Daniels, Donnelly and Adams were gathered with a few of the crewmembers from navigation and engineering, comparing something on their omnitools. Donnelly was getting quite enthusiastic, punctuating his words with his hands, but Daniels looked like she was having none of it, shaking her head and gesturing at Adams.

Miranda, Joker and Chakwas were all sitting around another of the tables playing poker with some of the other crewmembers. Joker's pile of chips was looking small and forlorn compared to Chakwas' and Miranda's. Shepard winced. Joker had never been the best poker player, whereas poker – or, more to the point, effective subterfuge – was one of Miranda's more esoteric but still perfectly honed skills. Chakwas was an unknown – despite months of service together she and Chakwas had never played poker – but judging by the pile of chips in front of her, she was more than capable of holding her own against Miranda.

Garrus, Kasumi and a group of enthusiastic crewmembers had turned the area between the tiny kitchen and the medbay into a makeshift dancefloor. Shepard could feel her eyebrows rising toward the ceiling as she took in the sight of Garrus not just bobbing and jerking around in an effort to fit in, but _dancing_. With Kasumi. Kasumi was laughing as Garrus skilfully spun her around.

A light touch on her elbow drew her attention away from the unlikely spectacle of Garrus not only dancing, but dancing _well. _Nathan stepped up beside her, a big smile on his face. "What the hell is going on here?" she demanded, probably sounding a little angrier than she had intended. She was more surprised than angry, really.

He hesitated before replying, smile faltering a little. "Well… we thought we needed to celebrate killing that Reaper, and—"

A loud cheer cut him off, coming from the direction of the arm-wrestling table. Shepard glanced sharply back in that direction. Vega had his arms raised and was crowing about his victory over Zaeed, who looked decidedly unimpressed. Now that he wasn't distracted by the match he had just won, Vega spotted Shepard standing off to the side. He let out a loud cheer, almost making her jump in surprise. "Commander! Hey! Congratulations!" he yelled happily.

His outburst alerted the rest of the crew to her presence and to her horror all fifty of them spun around, cheering and raising their glasses, momentarily drowning out the music. She felt the back of her neck warm at the unexpected deluge of attention. She shifted uncomfortably. She could handle crowds and attention in a fight, or if she had had a chance to prepare, but in a social setting when she had been surprised? Not so much. "Uh…" she faltered, surreptitiously glancing at Nathan for help.

He seemed to notice her reaction. "Garrus told us about your promotion," he explained, leaning down and speaking directly into her ear so she would be able to hear him over the noise. His presence at her shoulder was oddly reassuring. "The party is for that _and _the dead Reaper."

_Oh. _Well, she couldn't get angry about a party that was partially for _her_, even if it was breaking a bunch of regs. And she hadn't known about it until she walked in on it. She stifled a resigned sigh and took a deep breath instead, trying to feel less like a bug under a microscope with the whole crew watching her expectantly. "Thanks, everyone, I appreciate it," she called in what she hoped was a good imitation of cheeriness. A couple of the newer crew members started to stand up and salute, but she quickly waved them down. "As you were. Have fun." Another scattered cheer greeted that as the crew turned back to whatever they had been doing before she arrived.

She let out a relieved breath and began to make her way through the crowd towards the kitchen. Nathan followed, keeping up with her. "You all right, Commander?" he asked.

"Of course," she replied. No way was she admitting any sort of weakness in front of the crew. "Tired and hungry, though. I hope Sergeant… Chang? Chen?" She paused, glancing up at him.

"Chan, I think," he offered.

She nodded and shouldered her way into the kitchen. "Sergeant Chan. I hope he kept something aside for me."

She flipped open the warmer and reached inside, finding a covered plate labelled with 'Cmdr'. She smiled to herself. He had done it again. She pulled the plate out and grabbed some utensils before joining Nathan at the counter. He had pulled up a stool; she grabbed the one next to him and unwrapped her food.

"I think congratulations are in order," Nathan said, leaning back and propping his elbows up on the counter behind him. "I hear it's long overdue."

She shrugged, tucking into her dinner, which was a fusion of beef from Earth, asari vegetables and a levo version of some sort of turian grain. It was delicious. "That's what Hackett tells me."

He peered at her. "You don't seem too excited," he commented.

"It doesn't change what I have to do," she replied. Immediately she grimaced. That sounded way too fatalistic and entirely ungrateful. "But it's nice to be acknowledged," she added.

Nathan snorted with an amused grin. "I don't think you have to worry about that, oh Great Commander Shepard. When this war is over they'll probably build a few monuments in your honour."

She winced. _If I succeed. And if we all survive. _She kept those thoughts to herself. "God, I hope not." Time to change the subject. "So what set all this off, anyway?" she asked, indicating the bottle of beer Nathan was holding loosely by the neck, and the party at large.

"Kasumi thought we all needed a chance to celebrate. Let off some steam. She produced the alcohol from somewhere and convinced Chan to whip up a few snacks." He threw her a wary glance. "She thought you wouldn't mind."

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "She did, huh?"

Nathan shifted awkwardly in his seat. "Well, Staff Lieutenant Lawson was there at the time and she didn't say no… so technically we had the XO's permission…" he trailed off.

"'We'?" she repeated.

He paused. "Um."

Shepard stifled a chuckle at the look on his face. It wasn't often she got to turn the tables and tease _him. _"Relax, Briggs, it's okay. You're off the hook. I'm not going to put a stop to this. It was a good idea."

He made a face at her and she grinned in response, trying not to be _too _smug.

She ate her dinner in silence for a little while, as he watched the party around them. He was quiet for a long time. When she looked up, he was staring off into the middle distance with a reflective half-smile. He had such a warm, friendly smile, she couldn't help it when she smiled too. "What are you thinking about?" she asked him curiously.

"Killing that Reaper was the _best _feeling," he reminisced fervently.

"It was pretty good," she agreed.

"We kicked ass. _You _kicked ass while also dragging me around by the scruff of the neck."

To be honest, she felt a bit bad about that. But even now, with the benefit of hindsight, she couldn't see any other way to make sure he survived that encounter. "Sorry about that, but I didn't see that I had much choice at the time."

He shook his head. "That wasn't an accusation. I'd rather be here with my dignity a little bruised than back down there in a pile of ashes. Thanks for saving my slow ass."

"Any time," she replied, getting up to put her plate in the washer. "After all, I need your slow ass." She stopped, hand on the washer drawer. _What did I just say?_ "For the squad," she added. Oh, hell.

His lips were twitching in amusement as she trudged back over to her stool and spun around to face the party, matching his slouching posture against the bar. He reached over and patted her shoulder. "Nice one," he commiserated.

She refrained from flipping him off. "That was a pretty comprehensive history lesson Kasumi and Miranda gave you earlier. Did Kasumi tell you that one of the first missions we did together was to go to a party?" she asked.

He raised an eyebrow. "No. What happened?"

She told him the story of the infiltration of Donovan Hock's mansion and how she and Kasumi had retrieved her lover Keiji's greybox. "We didn't manage to keep it stealthy for long," she admitted. "Hock was onto us pretty quickly. He sprung the trap after we had managed to get into his vault. We had to shoot our way out."

"That seems to happen a lot with you."

She rolled her eyes at him. "I can't help it if people keep trying to shoot me."

He winked at her with a big, teasing grin. "You'd think they would have figured out by now that it's not too good for their health to start shooting at Commander Shepard." Laugh lines appeared at the corners of his eyes as he smiled, creasing the skin. She suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to reach up and lightly run her fingers over them, then along the lines of his cheekbones and...

_Shepard…_

She cleared her throat, realising she should probably say something. "So anyway, we took out the rest of the mercs and Hock's gunship and hightailed it out of there," she finished a little too quickly.

"Wait a second," Nathan interjected, spinning to face her and leaning an elbow on the counter in rapt attention. "You did all this in a dress and high heels?"

She blinked. "What? Of course not. Kasumi concealed our armour and guns in the statue of Saren we brought as a gift," she explained.

"Oh." He sighed. "Pity. That's one _hell _of an image."

She laughed. "Yeah, I can't imagine trying to pull off a combat roll in…" She trailed off at his pained, slightly embarrassed look. She frowned. "What?"

"Christ, Shepard, I was trying to _flirt _with you," he told her.

Her eyebrows flew up involuntarily. "You were?"

He gave her an exasperated look. "Obviously I didn't do a very good job of it."

She wasn't sure how to react. She felt a bit silly for not realising what he was doing, but then again she had never been very good with social situations. It wasn't like no one had ever flirted with her before, but she had always either ignored it, pretended she hadn't noticed or found some way to deflect the attention. Now, she found herself wanting to… encourage it. That made her nervous for a lot of reasons.

Chief among those… she _liked _Nathan. A lot. Probably too much, considering the Alliance regulations on the subject. And regardless of regulations, he was her responsibility. Just like she had been his back in Vancouver, when she had cut off that moment they had shared by her window and sent him back to his quarters. The power imbalance made it a high possibility that if she was to encourage him and things… progressed… she would be taking advantage of him. It was the last thing she wanted to do.

And yet… Her mind flitted back to that night on Vancouver, when she had allowed months of frustration to spill over in front of him. Instead of recoiling or running away, he had jumped up to try and… take care of her. He had held her hand close, protective in a way no one had ever thought to be with her before. Although she had been very drunk, she could still remember the heady combination of affection and longing in his liquid brown eyes.

She _wanted _to encourage him. Badly. Surely it wouldn't be the end of the world if she did. It would just be a little harmless flirting.

_The end of the world. _She felt a flash of anger. Chances are, if she couldn't stop the Reapers, it would be the end of the whole bloody human race. And the asari, salarians, turians… There was so much at _stake!_

But instead of using that as an excuse to back off, she felt acutely rebellious. The Reapers occupied her thoughts, the Alliance had her soul and Hackett was pulling her strings but her heart was _hers,_ dammit.

"Maybe you should try again, then," she suggested bravely, feeling annoyingly shy as she spoke.

Nathan looked surprised. "Really?" he finally asked. "But… what about Major Alenko?"

_Kaidan? _She frowned, feeling a very unwelcome pang of guilt. There was nothing between her and Kaidan, and hadn't been for quite some time, but she still found herself feeling guilty about carrying on with her life while he was fighting for his in a hospital bed on the Citadel. He had been part of her team – and a friend – for so long that it was difficult to train her mind into thinking of him as nothing but a soldier under her command. "What _about_ the Major?"

"Aren't you… together? A couple?" Nathan asked awkwardly.

She shook her head. "No. Once. Months—_years _ago," she corrected herself. Sometimes it was still difficult to remember that while it had been only months for her it had been over two years for everyone else.

"Oh," he murmured quietly, a small smile playing over his lips. He glanced at her briefly, and the relief in his face was enough to send things fluttering in her chest. She watched, fascinated, as the usual wise-cracking, self-assured Nathan began to re-emerge as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "So, Commander," he drawled. "I have your permission to flirt with you as much as I want, then?"

God, there was something about the way he said the word 'commander' that had very little to do with military respect. "You can try," she replied, feeling the corner of her mouth twitch up as a little of her own confidence filtered back in.

He opened his mouth to respond.

"Commander!"

Shepard almost jumped at the new voice. She hadn't realised how absorbed she had become. Garrus was reaching out to her even before she noticed he was there. He grabbed her hands and tugged her forward. "Shepard! It's time for some dancing!"

She recoiled instinctively, pulling her hands away. "Ohhh no, Garrus. No way."

Nathan was watching with interest as Garrus cocked his head to the side and stared at her. If she didn't know better, she would have thought he was giving her puppy-dog eyes. "Shepard, come on…" he drawled in a curiously turian version of a pleading whine.

How much had he drunk? She laughed. "No. No dancing. I'd have to be very drunk to set foot on that dance floor of yours and I haven't had anything."

"Well? What are you waiting for?" he demanded. "You're allowed to have fun too, you know."

Okay, yes, that was a good point. And she had wanted to find some way to start bonding with the new crew they had picked up on the Citadel. But there were other considerations. She looked at him regretfully. "I can't. All the senior officers are here already, and way ahead of me. Someone needs to stay sober to look after the _Normandy_. EDI doesn't count," she added before he could suggest the AI.

He stuck a finger out and pointed it squarely at her chest. "Ha! Miranda knew you would say that. _Staff Lieutenant Lawson _hasn't touched a drop all night. She can take command."

She glanced over at Miranda, who, sure enough, was drinking some sort of fruit drink. She considered for a moment before turning back to Garrus. "All right. I'll have a drink. But I am _not _dancing."

Garrus spun in place and started bobbing along to the music. "Yet!" he exclaimed. "You're joining me later, Shepard!"

She made a face as he returned to the dance floor. He found Gabby Daniels dancing beside Donnelly and Chan and grabbed her, twirling her expertly. Daniels let out a shriek of delight. Shepard had to smile at that. She had no idea Garrus had so many _moves._

Suddenly a drink appeared directly in front of her. She glanced over at Nathan, who grinned broadly. She took the glass and cast him a withering look, trying to ignore the little somersault her stomach seemed to want to do whenever he winked or smiled in her direction. "Subtle," she commented.

"Wasn't trying to be," he responded smoothly.

_Oh, okay then. _She buried her face in her glass, trying to hide the embarrassing flush that was no doubt creeping up her neck. "Look, you don't want to see me dance," she protested. "I'm really terrible, and I'm not exaggerating. At all. It's not pleasant. For anyone. Especially me." She forced herself to stop talking, fully aware she was starting to babble. _Bloody hell. Pull yourself together, _Commander.

He shook his head, and for a moment seemed to have stopped with the teasing. "I don't believe that for a second. I've seen you out on the battlefield, Shepard. You have some beautiful moves."

She glanced up at him. No one had ever called the way she fought _beautiful _before. She had never even thought about it. She knew she had a talent for it, but… it was just something she did. "It's not the same thing," she objected.

"It is, though," he insisted. "Look at Kasumi." He gestured toward the thief, who was now dancing with Donnelly. "She's an artist in a fight and a very good dancer. And Garrus! I heard about how long he held out against those mercs on Omega, and look at him dance. I bet Miranda's just as good."

Shepard snorted. "I'd take that bet. She's almost as bad as I am." It was true. It was one of the very few things Miranda was absolutely _no _good at.

A loud groan came from the crew members at the poker table, grabbing Shepard's attention. She bumped Nathan companionably in the shoulder, telling herself she hadn't just done that for an excuse to touch him, and meandered over as Joker stood up, shaking his head. "No way. I'm done. I've lost enough to you tonight," he was complaining as he made to leave.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Miranda cleaned me out, Commander," Joker complained.

"You need to work on your poker face, Flight Lieutenant," Miranda replied, a hair short of smirking.

"You are rather obvious on occasion, Jeff," Chakwas added from behind her significant pile of chips.

"Oh come on, you're ganging up on me now?" Joker protested.

Shepard laughed. "Come on Joker, sit back down. I'll spot you some credits. Deal me in." She cast a devilish grin at Miranda, who sighed. Miranda was good at poker, but Shepard had always been better. Maybe she could take Dr Chakwas too.

"Must you spoil my fun, Commander?"

"You giving up already, Lawson? It's probably for the best."

Miranda snorted. "I never give up, Shepard. Come on, then. Let's go."

Joker resumed his seat and Shepard took the one across from Miranda as another crewmember bowed out, vacating it. Nathan slipped into a free seat down the table and took the pack of cards, dealing everyone in. Shepard watched his hands as he dealt, impressed by their deftness. With his size and his lumbering performance on the battlefield, she wouldn't have guessed him to be good with his hands. She took a sip of her drink to distract herself from wondering just _how _good he might be with those heavy, calloused fingers.

As the night wore on she found herself stealing more and more glances at the Lieutenant. She was a little irritated with herself. She was behaving like a school girl with a crush.

It had been different with Kaidan, back on the SR-1. She hadn't really been thinking about him romantically, but he had been so amiable and they had gotten along so well that when he told her he was interested she hadn't been opposed to giving it a shot. She had definitely found him attractive, but it was more an objective impression than a desire to throw him down and tear his clothes off. Their night together before Ilos had been a reflection of that – good, but not great. It had been fine. She had decided to see where things would go with him after the Battle of the Citadel, but although they enjoyed each other's company immensely she had never felt any spark. His reaction to bumping into her on Horizon led her to believe he had been far more invested than she was.

The way he had accused her of turning traitor on Horizon had made her furious. It still did, even now, even after they had it out on Mars. After Horizon she had been so angry that she had jumped straight into bed with the smoking hot Cerberus agent the Illusive Man had supplied her with, Jacob Taylor, when he shamelessly hit on her. She still regretted that. He was a good man. A bit smarmy on occasion, but he didn't deserve to be used like that. After the final mission to the Collector base she had allowed whatever was between them to gradually fade away. If she was honest with herself, she had become bored with him very quickly. Aside from his body, she had found him a little… bland.

Talking with Nathan was completely different to talking with Jacob or Kaidan. Although he wasn't the most eloquent man, he seemed to complement her own personality well enough that when they spoke she never found herself tuning out. He was constantly teasing her or cracking a joke, but she never found his humour to be mean-spirited or in bad taste. It wasn't that he understood what he could get away with around her and was playing within those lines, either, like Jacob; it was more that he actually had no desire to push what she considered to be boundaries because they were his boundaries too.

And his body… well. He didn't ooze sex from every pore like Jacob had, but that was a good thing. She appreciated a little more subtlety. He was tall, well-built and well-muscled, with those big, calloused hands she could almost feel running down her…

_Shepard! Jesus!_

She blinked, forcing her mind back to the card game, and snuck another glance at him over the top of her cards. He had a slight frown on his face – that was one of his tells. It meant he had a decent, but not great, hand. One by one the others folded, until it was only the two of them left. Her own hand wasn't really worth betting over, but she raised anyway and he called. When they showed their hands, his three of a kind beat her two-pair. He grinned triumphantly and outwardly she tossed her hand down with a groan, while inwardly she felt herself melt a little at his grin.

There was definitely a spark there. And… she was still behaving like a schoolgirl with a crush. She sighed.

Miranda was looking at her with a thoughtful expression. Shepard wouldn't put it past her to realise that she had just thrown the game solely as an excuse to see Nathan smile, but if she asked Shepard could always say she had been trying to show the crew they could beat her and get away without a week of latrine duty.

"You're a bit off your game, Shepard," Miranda commented, a challenge in her voice.

"You haven't won a hand against me yet, Lawson," Shepard shot back cheerfully, peripherally aware of the crew members who were now watching the battle between their commander and their XO with interest. No doubt this would go a long way toward getting the crew more comfortable with their new XO. Two birds, one stone. "Go on, deal again."

This time she pushed _all_ thoughts of Nathan firmly to the back of her mind and concentrated on trouncing Miranda. The two of them had built a strong friendship around the fight against the Collectors but it had always been a competitive one. It hadn't started out that way, but had naturally evolved over time when they realised how much they both loved a contest. Having been engineered to be the perfect genetic specimen, Miranda was so good at so many things that she had found it difficult to find someone who could challenge her. She had told Shepard that it had been a pleasure to finally have someone who could give her a run for her money. Shepard wasn't quite as widely skilled, but in certain areas she too had found it difficult to find decent competition, so she had been equally pleased to find it in Miranda. She had missed the former Cerberus operative while she was incarcerated.

Bit by bit Shepard whittled away at Miranda's – and Chakwas' – pile of chips, although she lost more than a few hands along the way. Chakwas in particular gave her some trouble. Those steely grey eyes revealed nothing and even managed to intimidate her a little.

Aside from Chakwas and Miranda, crewman Taschev from the security detachment turned out to be surprisingly good and irritatingly unaffected by her slightly unfair attempts to scare him with her rank. Even the full 'Commander stare' did nothing. As she lost to him for what had to be the fifth time, she had to admit she was impressed. After that fifth time, she got up to refill her drink, grabbing a beer for him at the same time. When she sat down again, she slid it over to him with a nod and a smile. His aquiline, Slavic features relaxed just slightly as he showed a bit of genuine relief that she wasn't angry with him.

In terms of drinks, Shepard paced herself carefully. Even though Miranda had confirmed she was staying sober, Shepard still didn't want to drink too much while on active duty. It didn't matter that they still had at least thirty-six hours to go until they reached Tuchanka, most of which would be spent safely in FTL; the time wasn't the problem. It was the fact that while she was on this ship, she wasn't just Shepard, she was _Commander Shepard_, and there was an image she had to uphold for the crew. The younger crew members needed to see her as a constant: always reliable and always in control. Getting blind drunk would spoil that image beyond recovery.

That didn't mean she couldn't have a little fun with her crew, though. In fact, having a little fun with the new arrivals, like Taschev, would probably be a good idea. Nathan too, in fact. The relationship they had established back on Earth meant she didn't automatically include him when she thought about the other new crew members, but that was a mistake. He needed to grow to feel comfortable with the ship and the posting as much as they did.

She was thinking about ways to do this when Garrus came over to try and convince her to dance with them again. This time he was backed up by Vega, who also seemed to have a hell of a rhythm. Garrus beckoned to her. "Come on, Shepard…" he cajoled.

She wrinkled her nose. She really didn't want to dance, but she had just been thinking of ways to bond with the crew… "Garrus…"

Vega jumped in, offering her a hand. "Come on, Commander. The legend surrounding your dancing is growing to epic proportions. You can't possibly be _that_ bad."

Before she could correct him – she could definitely be _that _bad, she knew that because she _was_ – Garrus interjected. "She's not, she's just… unpolished." She snorted at that. "What? You are. The problem is that no one has taken the time to _teach_ you yet." His face lit up as he looked from Vega to Kasumi in obvious glee at his bright idea. "That's it! If you come and dance with us, we'll teach you!"

Inwardly she groaned, giving him a sceptical look. Sure, it would be nice to be able to get on a dance floor and not be the centre of attention for all the wrong reasons, but that still meant she'd have to get up and dance _now_. Besides, could she even be taught? She had never even been able to hold a rhythm.

"I'll help," Nathan offered, leaving his seat and moving to join Garrus, Vega and Kasumi.

"You can dance?" she asked, surprised. It wasn't something she would have thought he could do.

He shrugged, sheepish. "Not very well. But I'm a guy, all I have to do is swing the ladies around."

"I'm not sure that helps me very much." She paused, eyes moving between all four of her 'benefactors'. "Does it really take four of you to do this?" She offered one last weak protest.

"Shepard…" Garrus pleaded.

She sighed and got to her feet, telling herself it wasn't because Nathan was now involved. The new crew could bond over making fun of their commander. That was it. "Fine. Go on, then. Do your worst."

Kasumi made a happy noise and darted forward, grabbing her hands and pulling her toward the makeshift dance floor. To her horror at least half the crew followed, milling around on the makeshift dance floor. How did _half the crew _know about her dubious dancing skills? They didn't _really_ have legendary status… did they? Commander Shepard, Saviour of the Citadel, Dances Like an Elcor? Even Miranda sidled over to watch, poker forgotten. Chakwas and Joker snagged two of the stools at the kitchen counter.

Shepard wrinkled her nose as the spectators struggled to look innocent, like they were totally _not _watching. _This had better be worth it._ Crew bonding had better happen.

Kasumi's voice pulled her focus back. "Okay, Shep, do what I do," Kasumi said in an encouraging voice.

"Just remember my legs don't bend like yours, Kasumi," Shepard warned her. She tugged at her BDU shirt, feeling awkward and clumsy next to the lithe thief.

Kasumi laughed. "Don't worry, we'll start with the basics. Now, listen to the music but just pick out one particular beat."

Shepard cocked her head to the side, doing her best to follow instructions and ignore her audience. There were so many different beats, though, some sharp and loud, some deep and low. Whenever she thought she had picked one out, it changed. She looked at Kasumi helplessly. Someone in the surrounding crowd tittered, then covered it with a cough as she glared in their general direction.

"Just watch me, Shep," Kasumi told her firmly. "See if you can pick it up from my movements."

Kasumi began moving her feet, side to side, hips swaying in time. It looked very simple, even Shepard could see that. As she watched, she listened, and she was pretty sure she could work out which beat Kasumi was following. She nodded. "Okay, I got it."

"Good!" Kasumi exclaimed. "Now try it yourself. Just do what I'm doing, it's easy."

Shepard swallowed her discomfit and started awkwardly shuffling her feet. She held tight to Kasumi's hands and did her best to keep up, but every time she thought she might be sort of maybe getting it, Kasumi twitched a hand and she would realise that she was actually getting further behind. She looked down at her feet, frowning, trying to match them to Kasumi's, but that seemed to only make things worse. Some nearby crew members offered words of encouragement, while others seemed to be trying to help her by showing her what to do, which was kind of endearing even if it made her feel like a complete idiot.

"No, Shep, don't look down, just move to the beat," Kasumi prompted her. Shepard was impressed at the patience in the younger woman's voice. She redoubled her efforts, wanting to live up to that endless optimism, but found that this time Kasumi was trying to get her to slow down.

From off to one side she could hear James, Nathan and Garrus muttering to one another in low voices. Her neck was starting to prickle. At one point, she was certain she heard James comment, "Wow, she really _is _that bad, isn't she?"

Okay, that was enough. She let go of Kasumi's hands and spun to face the three men, crossing her arms over her chest and glowering. "I _did _warn you!"

Nathan was clearly trying to hide his amusement, but he was failing badly. The look in his eyes was… affectionate. Patronising. As though he found her _cute. _She narrowed her eyes and turned her gaze on him, annoyed. "You think you can do a better job than Kasumi, Briggs?" she challenged him.

"Actually, that's not a bad idea," Garrus mused to Nathan. "With a partner to guide her, she might do better."

She turned her glare on Garrus. "Don't talk about me as if I'm not here, Vakarian."

"Come on, Shepard," Nathan said cheerfully, offering her his hand. "We've got a few more tricks up our sleeves. We'll get you there."

"Just get me there quickly, then," she muttered grumpily, patience starting to run out. There was only so much of this kind of crew bonding she could take.

She took his hand and he pulled her in close, lifting her other hand and placing it on his shoulder. He laid his own free hand against the small of her back. She couldn't help but inhale his scent from within the circle of his arms, a blend of warm skin and standard Alliance-issue soap. It smelled familiar, comforting. Her irritation began to drain away. Although he maintained a respectful distance of at least half a metre between them, she could still allow herself to bask in the heat radiating off his body and the firm pressure of his hand against her back.

"Kasumi, we need some better music," he prompted the thief.

Of course. She should have known Kasumi would be the one to hack into the _Normandy's_ speakers just to play dance music.

Kasumi fiddled with her omnitool and a lilting melody started to flow from the _Normandy's_ bulkheads. Nathan shook his head. "Let's not _start _with a tango, Kasumi. We'll scare her off." Shepard rolled her eyes at him.

Another simpler track with a steadier beat started up. "Nice," Nathan commented with a pleased grin. Shepard didn't recognise the music, but before she could try too hard to place it Nathan's hand was pressing into her back and he was moving. She fought down a moment of completely irrational panic and did her best to follow his lead.

_Christ. _She could stare a brute down from a metre away but she started to panic at the prospect of _dancing._

She stumbled along with Nathan, certain her face was bright red. She watched her own feet and tried to mirror what he was doing, but that only led her to tripping as she tried to catch up. She stepped on his feet a few times too, trying to overcompensate when she thought she was falling behind. She did her best to keep a good humour about it but it was aggravating, not being able to force her body to follow such a simple step.

After the fourth time she stepped on his foot, Nathan seemed to remember something. "Hey Shepard, I've been meaning to ask you about what happened after you, Wrex and Tali went through the Conduit in the Mako and landed on the Citadel. I heard you had to suit up and walk along the _outside _of the elevator shaft to get to the Presidium Tower. Is that true?"

She nodded, a bit thrown by the change of subject. "Sovereign shorted out the power to the elevators," she explained. "Ours stopped short of—" she tripped, recovered and continued, "—the Tower."

"They sent cloned krogan against you, didn't they?" Kasumi asked. She had partnered up with James and was dancing alongside Shepard and Nathan. Garrus was spinning a flustered Gabby Daniels around the floor and Donnelly had paired off with Traynor. The two of them seemed almost as awkward as Shepard felt. She was not surprised to find that Zaeed was nowhere to be seen.

"Yep," Shepard replied. "And geth. Lots of geth. Luckily we managed to commandeer a couple of anti-aircraft guns." She shuffled a bit to readjust her footing, almost tripping again.

Joker laughed from his perch at the counter. "That was awesome. That geth troop transport didn't stand a chance."

"You were watching?" Nathan asked, curious. His hand on her back was solid and steady, warm through the cloth of her shirt. It tightened in a very pleasant way every time she stumbled. Each time that happened, she was almost certain he was pulling her in just a tiny bit closer. She wasn't sure he even realised it. It felt… comfortable. Warm.

"Not live, I was too busy taking down Sovereign," Joker replied with a cocky smirk. "But all three of them had suit-cams, so I watched it later."

"_Dios_, do you still have the recording?" James asked as he skilfully spun Kasumi around and dipped her with a flourish. "I'd kill to see that."

"If you ask Alliance Intelligence, of course I didn't hold on to such classified material after turning the footage over to them. But yes, we can watch it later if you want."

"Sweet!" James exclaimed.

Shepard glanced at Joker. "You know Alliance Intel doesn't find you quite as irreverently charming as I do, Joker. If they find out you could get in a lot of trouble."

He raised his arms in surrender. "Hey, if you want me to delete it, I'll delete it, Commander. I mean, it'll hurt my feelings, but I'll do it…"

She sighed. "Keep it, Joker."

"Hey, I know," Kasumi said cheerfully. "Let's have a movie night tomorrow!"

"This isn't a summer camp, Kasumi," Miranda interjected. She had perched herself primly on a stool beside Joker and Chakwas.

"Come on, Miranda, I bet you have some good battle footage stored away as well," Nathan said hopefully. His forearm was completely encircling her waist now, and her hand on his shoulder had shifted toward his neck. When had that happened?

"Of course I do. But it was collected purely for the purposes of tactical and performance assessment, not for entertainment. After Commander Shepard was brought back, I needed to make sure she was operating at full strategic capacity as well as full fighting fitness."

Shepard frowned. "I never realised you were filming us on missions, Miranda."

Miranda appeared surprised. "You didn't? I mean, of course I would…"

Kasumi interjected, "Tell me you have footage of the mission to free Jack from Purgatory. The stories you all brought back from that one were the best."

"As a matter of fact, I do."

"Wonderful! I always wanted to see that."

Nathan was laughing. "You're quite the action movie star, Shepard," he teased her. Without warning, he raised her arm up over her head and spun her around, then neatly caught her again, easily slipping his arm back around her waist.

Startled, she grabbed for his shoulder, closing the distance between them for a moment. "Woah! Warn me before you pull something like that," she protested, glaring up at him. She paused, still frowning. "Wait a second. I didn't trip over."

Nathan was grinning. "Nope."

She looked down at her feet then stared up at him in shock. "How long have we been talking?" she demanded.

"It's been at least five minutes," Joker chimed in.

Kasumi was giggling. "Guess what, Shep? You weren't just dancing, you were _in time_, too."

"No way," she breathed. It was impossible, she had never been able to… They had distracted her with chatter and… other things… and once her mind was off her feet, it had come to her. She stared accusingly at Nathan. "You tricked me."

His grin grew wider as he nodded cheerfully. "Yep."

"Shit," she swore, but she could feel a smile spreading uncontrollably across her face anyway. The others were grinning too, except Miranda, who was rolling her eyes.

"Wow, I think we should call him the Shepard-whisperer," Joker murmured to Chakwas, who covered a smile with her hand.

Shepard tossed a glare at Joker, but Nathan pulled her forward with him again, prompting her to try and keep up. "Come on, Shepard, keep going," he urged her. "You're on a roll!"

Shepard forgot about Joker as she smiled up at her Lieutenant_. _For the next few precious hours there were no Reapers, no impending galactic war, no demanding Admirals, just her crew, her friends, and the man she was falling for.

* * *

_A/N: Phew, that was a long one! I rewrote this five times and in the end had to say enough was enough. It just kept growing! I hope you enjoyed it._

_As always, a huge thank you to those who regularly review and comment, and all those who have followed this story. You are wonderful._


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

Nathan hunched over the weapons bench, tools in hand, carefully teasing the insulator wiring of his heavy pistol out of its casing without dislodging the thermal sink. It was mid-morning ship time and he had come down to the cargo bay to get some serious modding done after breakfast, while the _Normandy_ flew towards Tuchanka at FTL. His weapons needed upgrades and he hadn't had a chance to work on them until now. If he could get his own done quickly, he could start work on the rest of the crew's as well.

If he was honest with himself, he was still feeling a bit out of place on the _Normandy_. When you came right down to it, compared to Shepard and her crew he was just an ordinary marine grunt. Even Vega, a soldier like Nathan, seemed to have more skill in his little finger than Nathan had in his whole body. He badly wanted to find a way to be more useful. He needed to work on his tech skills, get better at using his omnitool as a weapon, and work on his aim. All of that took time though, whereas he could contribute some handy mods right now.

Despite all that, he was in a hell of a good mood this morning. The party the night before had been a lot of fun. He had felt like he was starting to fit in with the others in a social setting, if not as part of the ground team. As the party got going he had found himself hanging out with Garrus and Vega a lot. The three of them seemed to get along well. They had swapped old war stories and compared kills, Garrus easily beating out Nathan and James in both number and creativity for both topics.

He had also spent some time talking to Miranda. She didn't open up much – he got the impression it would be very difficult to convince her to do that – but she was very technically inclined so they had a lot to talk about. On top of that, she was a biotic. Biotics fascinated him. He hadn't met too many human biotics aside from the pair that had been part of his old squad.

He wondered how his squad was doing. When he had last seen them they were all on the Citadel, but a few months after that he had received a message from Sergeant – now Lieutenant – Harris. As Nathan had recommended, Harris had taken over the squad. They had been deployed to Garnerus, a colony on the fringes of the Traverse. He hadn't heard from any of them since, despite sending messages after boarding the _Normandy_. He hoped they hadn't been on Earth when the Reapers hit.

He wound the wire up and clipped it into a storage cylinder, then pulled out a new, more heavily insulated length. He began painstakingly winding it around the thermal sink.

He had been having fun talking to other members of the crew, but then Shepard had appeared and instantly made his night a thousand times better. He still couldn't believe he had actually flirted with her. And that she had _liked _it! He could still see that smile she had given him, with its combination of surprise, encouragement, and a hint of the most adorable shyness. She had been _shy! _About flirting with him. Commander Shepard. Shy.

He shook his head, smiling to himself. He couldn't quite believe that he had managed to elicit that reaction from her. He hadn't intended to flirt with her – he hadn't actually managed to work up the nerve yet – but his mouth had moved before his brain could catch up and he had been forced to live with the consequences. He had been certain she would back off again, like she had back in Vancouver, but she hadn't.

Did that mean she was interested? God he hoped so.

As he worked, he hummed to himself. He had just realised he was humming the song that had been playing when they had started dancing and stopped himself in embarrassment when he heard the elevator doors slide open. He glanced up from his work and nodded at Garrus in greeting, giving him a bright grin. "Morning, Garrus."

"Briggs. You look like you're in a good mood," the turian commented as he made his way over.

"That's because I am," Nathan replied cheerfully. "How's your head?"

Garrus hummed to himself, mandibles twitching. Nathan wished he could read turian expressions, but the best he could do was tell if one was about to punch him. He was pretty sure Garrus wasn't going to do that. "Not bad, considering. Could be better," he admitted ruefully. "What are you doing?"

Nathan looped the wire around the cylindrical sink, using his finger to hold it in place. "I'm trying to increase the capacity of the thermal sink. It'll mean I get more shots out of each clip," he explained.

"Ah," Garrus replied. "Good idea. If it works, you'll have to show me how to do it."

"Sure," Nathan replied. He glanced up at the turian. "You must have some good tricks yourself, too."

Pulling his sniper rifle out from the weapons locker, Garrus brought it over to the opposite side of the weapons bench and laid it down. "I have a couple. I can show you how to graft a thermal imager onto the sights so you can pick hostiles out from behind smoke grenades and the like."

That sounded incredibly useful. "Hell yeah, show me. I'll put it on both my rifles."

"No problem."

The two of them fell into a companionable silence, Garrus taking apart his rifle and cleaning it while Nathan finished off the thermal capacity mod. The turian was good company. He didn't feel the need to fill the silence, but still made idle comments from time to time. They had a lot in common. They both fought with tech and weaponry, although Garrus preferred his sniper rifle over the assault rifle. They both preferred the movie Volus Wars 2 over 3 and agreed that the fourth iteration of that particular franchise should never have been made. They had both trained as soldiers from a very young age; although Nathan was surprised to learn he had apparently started earlier than Garrus. And both were scared shitless that the Reapers would wipe them out.

"What do you think our chances are?" Nathan asked as he worked. The mood had turned sombre, although it was a companionable form of it.

"I don't know," Garrus replied with a heavy sigh. "I don't want to say they're not good. But… millions of people are dying every day. We don't just have an overwhelming force to go up against, we've also got a pretty strict time limit."

Nathan grimaced. "Do you have family on Palaven?"

A soft keening sound came from the turian's throat. It reminded Nathan of the sad cries of a lost child. His heart went out to Garrus. "Yes. My father and sister."

He almost didn't want to ask. "Have you heard?"

Garrus shook his head. "No."

Nathan winced, and they both kept working on their projects for a moment. Then Garrus asked the inevitable. "What about you?"

Nathan gritted his teeth. "My mother and father were on Earth."

"And have you heard from them?"

"No."

Garrus trilled in sympathy, and Nathan didn't correct the sentiment. He knew he should be worried about them, that was the correct emotion to be feeling in this circumstance, but he couldn't bring himself to be. His mother… maybe he could hope she was all right. But his father…

No. His father, he could only feel nothing for. Nothing was better than the hatred he knew he would feel if he allowed himself. And that would make him a monster, wouldn't it? Especially since the bastard had never actually laid a finger on him, which to his mind meant he had no real justification for feeling that way.

He realised his hands were clenching around his rifle when Garrus laid his own hand on his shoulder. "Briggs. They'll be all right," he said.

Even though the turian had completely misunderstood where the tension was coming from, his gesture made Nathan feel a little better. "Thanks, Garrus," he said. "So will yours."

Snapping the last catch back into place on his rifle, he cocked it and grunted in satisfaction at the clear sound it made. It would be nice to be able to test it, but he hadn't yet found a suitable spot on board the _Normandy_. "Garrus, anywhere we can test these?" he asked.

"Hm. Not really. We once set up a firing range along the length of the bay here," Garrus gestured, indicating the expanse of the shuttle bay from the weapons bench down to the doors at the other end, "but we ran out of things to shoot. Shepard shut it down after that. Didn't want us to put holes in her ship."

"Why don't we set something up now? Looks like there are plenty of empty crates around. We could shoot those," Nathan suggested.

"Where's the fun in that? Unless you find it difficult to hit the broadside of a packing crate, which I sincerely hope you don't."

Nathan tossed him a glare as he put his rifle away, back in the weapons locker. "Very funny." Garrus' mandibles spread in what Nathan thought might be the turian version of a smile. "I do need to work on my overload as well, though. It's pretty shit at the moment."

"Okay, send me the hack programme you're using and I'll take a look," Garrus offered.

Nathan cued up the programme on his omnitool and forwarded it to Garrus, who brought it up on screen. He immediately started shaking his head. Nathan raised his eyebrows. "What?" he demanded, craning his head to get a look. "Surely it's not _that _bad."

"Well…" Garrus trailed off. "Okay, no, it's not that bad. It needs a bit of work though. Kind of like Shepard's dancing."

"Hey," Nathan protested. "Wow. No need to go overboard."

The turian looked up. "Go where?"

Nathan blinked. "Uh… go overboard. Turians don't use that saying? It means to go too far."

"Go too far? Over a board?" Garrus cocked his head to the side, clearly confused.

"No, no." Nathan shook his head. "_Overboard. _It's a saying from a few centuries ago on Earth where the farthest distances were travelled in boats. Over water. If you went overboard, you would be in the water and you could drown."

Garrus recoiled. "That sounds… violent."

Nathan made a face. "It's not meant to be. We humans can swim, so we probably wouldn't drown. Do turians swim?"

"Spirits, no!"

Nathan laughed. "I understand why you would find that violent then. Sorry to confuse you. I was playing up to your joke about Shepard's dancing."

Garrus waved it away, mandibles spreading again. He seemed amused. Nathan was getting better at reading him. "Speaking of Shepard, she seemed very happy after we got her dancing last night. It was nice to see."

Nathan grinned. "Yeah."

"And you seemed happy to be dancing with her."

Garrus' tone was very mild. Almost too mild. Nathan looked at him suspiciously, shifting his weight to rest his hip against the nearby terminal. "Yeah… it was fun."

"Do humans normally stare into each other's eyes so much when they're just having some fun?"

Nathan crossed his arms over his chest, clearing his throat. "I wasn't staring into her eyes," he protested, glaring.

Garrus chuckled. "Sure you weren't." He finished entering something into his omnitool then flicked the programme back over to Nathan. "Look, I don't want to assume anything, but I saw the way you were looking at her."

"And?" What was he trying to say? Garrus was one of Shepard's oldest friends; was he getting all protective of her? He liked the turian but he liked Shepard a hell of a lot more. He didn't really give a shit if Garrus disapproved.

Peripherally Nathan understood he was hiding his unease with defensiveness, but he couldn't bring himself to overcome that.

"And nothing. I'm not threatening you, Briggs. If you like her, you should go for it."

Nathan let out a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding, feeling his kneejerk anger dissipate. If Garrus wasn't going to be an obstacle, perhaps he could be an ally. "She… may have said something encouraging last night," he revealed. "But I don't know. She's my commanding officer, it would be fraternisation. There are regulations. She could get demoted."

Garrus made a sound that was very similar to a human scoff. "Hackett's not going to demote _Commander Shepard. _He just promoted her. And besides, do you think he cares about who his soldiers are screwing _now? _With the Reapers trying to wipe everyone off the face of the galaxy?"

"Maybe that's true for most soldiers, but not Shepard. Maybe Hackett wouldn't demote her, but she's famous, she's got reporters following her whenever she steps off the ship. She's a hero. I don't want to be responsible for dragging her name through the mud," Nathan argued.

"Except _you_ wouldn't be. Don't be an idiot, Briggs. You said she encouraged you. She's a grown woman, she's capable of dragging her own name through the mud with no input from you."

Garrus had a point. She had finally shown him that she might be interested in him just as much as he was in her, and he was trying to… what? Look after her? Protect her from herself? When he thought about it like that, it did sound kind of silly.

He brought up his omnitool and looked through the changes Garrus had made to his code. "Hey, I never would have thought to do some of this stuff. Thanks, Garrus," he said.

"No problem."

"And… thanks for the other stuff too," he added.

Garrus' mandibles lifted in a turian grin.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

Nathan frowned as he studied the packing crate before him, trying to decide where to mark a target. He had elicited Cortez and James' help to stack a bunch of sturdy crates up against the rear of the cargo hold, then borrowed some insulation tape from Cortez to mark out some targets. He had decided that even if Garrus found shooting at packing crates to be too much like child's play, he would suck it up, ignore his pride, and take what he could get. His aim needed work and beggars couldn't be choosers.

Vega had agreed to join him after claiming he needed to practice with his sniper rifle – although privately Nathan thought he was either being nice or looking for a chance to show off, although the two weren't necessarily mutually exclusive with Vega – and Cortez had decided his own shooting needed work if he wanted to keep his firearm certification. They waited at the other end of the shuttle bay, near the terminals.

"Come on, Briggs," Cortez called. "It doesn't need to be pretty."

"It's gotta be small, though," Nathan called in reply. "Keep your fucking pants on." He found himself swearing more and more when he was around Cortez and Vega. Cortez wasn't a marine but he sure gave people shit like one, although he didn't stoop to swearing much himself.

He placed the last target then jogged back over to the two men. He grabbed his assault rifle from the rack and gestured for one of them to take the first shot. Vega shook his head. "Nah, _amigo_, you built it, you go first."

Nathan shrugged and stepped up, using the gap between the two banks of terminals as a firing line. The day shift had ended half an hour ago and they had made sure the bay was cleared before they began. One of the crates had been set at a height approximating the average human and now had a crudely shaped head and shoulders taped onto it. It was about fifty metres away. Nathan set his rifle in the crook of his shoulder and fired.

All three of his slugs hit the target, scattering around the shoulder area. James nodded. "Not bad."

The big marine was crouching, using the terminal bank as a bracing surface for his sniper rifle. He took a moment to aim, then fired, the powerful shot cracking through the silence in the empty shuttle bay and slamming into the final target Nathan had placed, a tiny square at the top of the tallest pile of crates.

Cortez whistled. "_Damn_, Mr Vega. Nice shot."

Vega smirked. "What can I say? I'm good."

"And not an asshole about it at all," Nathan added, grinning at him. "Come on, Cortez, your turn."

The shuttle pilot stepped up and raised the pistol, aiming for another of the human-shaped targets. Nathan had set up three of those, along with one turian-sized. So far they hadn't run into anything volus-sized in the field, so he hadn't made one of those, and the brutes were like hitting… well, the broad side of a packing crate.

Cortez squeezed off a couple of hesitant shots. It was clear he hadn't used a gun in a while; both went wide of the target. Nathan didn't say anything, though, just watched and waited. Sure enough, after taking a quick second to readjust, Cortez fired again and this time managed to hit a leg and a hip. He smiled in wry relief. "Yeah, it's been a while."

Nathan clapped him on the shoulder and moved forward to take his turn.

The three of them kept at it for a while, rotating positions and trying different weapons. Nathan found he wasn't quite as rusty with a sniper rifle as he had thought, although he wasn't as accurate as Vega. To add insult to injury, however, the big man excelled with the assault rifle. His accuracy approached Shepard's freakish perfection. Somehow he was able to cluster all three rounds of a burst within centimetres of one another, and usually square on the target outline's forehead. Nathan shook his head at that and vowed to keep practicing.

Cortez didn't come close to approaching either of them in terms of accuracy, but then he didn't need to. He practiced a bit, but mostly made idle conversation while they worked.

James and Cortez left for the first round of dinner, but Nathan decided to wait for the second in favour of continuing his practice. He was getting better, but still didn't feel like he was at the standard he needed to be. He knew it wouldn't be possible to get _that _much better in a single session, but he had to start somewhere.

He switched back to his assault rifle when James and Cortez left. He found himself falling into a rhythm as he aimed his fire at the targets one by one, ending with the turian target. All the crates were looking a little worse for wear now, but the outlines were still visible. He could _almost _imagine it was a marauder he was shooting at. _Reaper pricks. _He aimed a burst at where he thought the fringe would be, but his shots flew over its head instead. He grumbled to himself and loosened his grip on the rifle, rolling his shoulder.

"You're not absorbing the kickback as well as you could be," came a voice from behind him.

He turned, lowering the rifle, to find Shepard leaning against one of the pillars. She was in full BDUs, hair in its usual bun. He smiled at her almost involuntarily in greeting as he swapped the rifle to his left hand and saluted her. _Beautiful. _He always found himself smiling when he saw her. She flipped him a quick salute and a smile of her own. "Keep going," she encouraged him. "Show me your stance."

Feeling a little self-conscious now, he moved back into position at the firing line and brought the rifle up as if ready to fire. The last thing he wanted to do was look incompetent in front of her. She pushed off the pillar and came forward, studying him critically. He almost cracked a joke about her checking out his ass, but decided against it. So far she was sounding more like she was giving him some impromptu training than wanting to have a casual chat. He decided he would stick to military protocol until he found out otherwise.

"Loosen your knees a bit more to absorb the recoil," she instructed. She took a few steps off to the side and nodded at him to fire. He squeezed the trigger, trying to let his knees bend a bit more than he normally would. He hit the target, but it still wasn't precisely where he had been aiming. "Don't grip the rifle so tightly, it's not going anywhere," she added, sounding almost conversational. He shot again, surprised to see a bit of improvement this time. "Good. That was better."

He was careful not to let it show on his face, but inwardly he all but glowed at the praise. He had always been a sucker for praise, but when it was coming from Shepard it felt even better. She wasn't treating him like a green recruit either, which he appreciated no end. He shot again, and again, trying to maintain the improvement. After a few bursts Shepard held up a hand. "Stop," she said.

She ducked into reach directly in front of him, gripping the rifle with both hands. She readjusted it none too gently against his shoulder, just as his old training sergeant from basic would have, so it was slightly closer to his cheek. Despite the rough move, though, and completely unlike his old grizzled training sergeant, he couldn't help but notice how close she was and how much of an effect it had on him. He could reach out and touch her without even having to stretch. He caught a vague hint of warm honey in the air, mixed with the heat of her skin, and it almost made his mouth water.

When she was done she made to step back, but hesitated a moment. She hadn't met his eyes as she came in close, but now she did. Her eyes were soft and thoughtful as she studied him. Was he having the same effect on her that she was having on him? He did his best to avoid getting lost in those ocean-blue depths, lest he completely forget how to hold his weapon.

She stood there for so long that he almost lowered the rifle and reached for her. But she finally seemed to shake herself slightly before moving away, standing off to one side again. His hands tingled. "Fire," she ordered. He was almost certain he heard her voice catch, just slightly.

He aimed and shot, trying to absorb the kickback with knees that were suddenly a little less steady than they were before. He didn't even hit the right crate.

_Dammit, all she did was stand there!_

He glanced at her to find an eyebrow raised in surprise. He flushed. "Okay. That wasn't great," he admitted.

"Yeah, not great," she agreed. He winced. "You were doing fine before, though. What changed?"

Did she really not know how much of an effect she had on him?

Maybe it was time he told her. Gathering his courage he admitted in a rush, "You distracted me."

She frowned, appearing concerned. "I did? What did I do?"

Or maybe he could show her instead. He set the rifle down, firmly swallowing his nerves, and took a couple of steps toward her. She watched him warily. "You did…" He deliberately stepped in close, a little closer than she had come to adjust his grip on the rifle. It left a bare few inches between them, less in certain areas. She had to tilt her head up to keep her eyes on his face, but she didn't back away. He kept his hands resolutely by his side and sought her eyes with his own, before finishing his sentence. "…this."

He watched as her eyes widened slightly, chest rising almost imperceptibly as she breathed. He was close enough to feel her body heat again, smell that mixture of warm honey and _Shepard_. He wanted badly to run his eyes down the length of her gorgeous body, drink in those beautiful curves, but she hadn't done that to him and he was trying to prove a point. Instead he kept his eyes locked with hers, letting the multitude of subtle shifts and refractions he had resisted before draw him in.

She drew in a deeper breath and murmured, "Oh."

Just that little sound was too much for him. He forgot all about the point he was trying to prove and lifted a hand to her cheek, waiting for her to tell him to stop but _hoping_ she wouldn't. He stroked her skin gently with the pads of his fingers, running his thumb lightly over her cheekbone. Before he could second-guess himself he leant down and brushed his lips against hers.

His heart almost stopped. Her lips were achingly soft. He let his fingers drift over the hair above her ear to trace her hairline all the way to the back of her neck, then laid his palm against the side of her neck and buried his fingers in the smooth hair at the base of her bun. Her eyelids fluttered shut. His heart had jolted into action again and he could feel his heart try and thud its way out of his chest as he kissed her. Meanwhile his mind desperately tried to catch up with the rest of him.

_Holy shit are you fucking nuts you're going to get transferred or tossed out the airlock even if she did flirt with you last night you must have read it wrong she couldn't possibly she's Commander fucking Shepard there's no way shut up and kiss her-_

He caught his breath as he felt the light pressure of her hand on his abdomen. It made its way up to his chest as her lips moved on his, gently testing, _reciprocating_. She found his shoulder at the same time he slid his other hand around her waist, pulling her body in against his. His arm moulded with the curve of her waist perfectly. _She _moulded with _him _perfectly. Her other arm snaked up to rest on his chest, right above his heart. He could feel it when he breathed.

Her breasts were pressed up against his chest too, now, and he could feel their softness whenever he moved. His pants were becoming noticeably tighter. He let the kiss grow deeper and slipped the tip of his tongue into her mouth.

The elevator pinged.

With a throaty gasp, Shepard pulled herself away. She stepped back, eyes a little wild as she clasped her hands behind her back, then changed her mind and leant against one of the terminals. He didn't have a spare moment to enjoy how off-balance she looked. He spun around, searching for his rifle, and found it laying on the bench next to a terminal. He grasped it like a lifeline, trying to look as though he was examining it for… something. Intently.

He heard boots on the deck suddenly snapping to attention, followed by Shepard's surprisingly steady voice. "Rogers," she greeted the arriving crewmember.

"Evening, ma'am," the young shuttle mechanic replied.

"As you were," Shepard dismissed him, somehow managing to use that veiled steel _Commander _voice despite what they had been doing moments before.

Nathan felt a rush of heat in his belly as the sound of boots receded. She sounded _hot _when she used the Commander voice. He edged a little closer to the waist-high terminal, watching out of the corner of his eye as Rogers made his way over to one of the shuttles. The kid was soon busying himself with the shuttle, paying no attention to either him or the commander.

"That was some good work, Briggs," Shepard told him, voice even. He wasn't sure whether she was referring to the shooting or the kiss. He hoped for the latter. "Keep practicing and you'll get even better."

_Keep practicing, huh? _He fought a grin. That was _definitely _about the kiss. "Don't worry, Commander, I will."

He couldn't turn around just yet. He heard her boots on the deck, followed by the elevator's chime. She was gone.

He let out a breath, willing his body to calm down so he could move away from the goddamn terminal without embarrassing himself.

* * *

Shepard stared at her personal terminal without seeing the screen. The CIC was quiet; aside from the night shift skeleton crew she had it to herself. Most of the rest of the crew were down in the mess eating dinner or dispersed throughout the crew areas enjoying their downtime. She had taken her meal in her quarters, ostensibly so she could keep working, but really because she needed some time to herself to think.

It had been about an hour since Nathan had kissed her in the shuttle bay, and she still didn't regret it. Not even a little. It had been good. _Really _good. His hands, his lips, his arm holding her tightly around the waist… his tongue in her mouth… She shook off a pleasant little shiver.

Her brain was still going at a mile a minute, though. It hadn't felt like just some random spontaneous tension relief. They had _started_ something. Where did they go from here? Would they go anywhere at all? He had seemed to want to. Had she misread that? What if he just wanted a fling? What if he wanted more? What exactly did _she _want?

She shook her head. Thinking two steps ahead of her adversary was a very useful talent on the battlefield but Nathan wasn't an adversary. It would do her no good to start worrying about things that might not happen in _this _situation. She would find out what he was thinking by just _talking _to him. Like a normal person would.

She almost snorted. Normal. Ha. Her life had been anything but normal ever since she set foot on the _Normandy_ SR-1. No—since before that. Since Akuze. Could she even do 'normal'?

She would have to try. With a moment's clarity, she knew she didn't just want some casual fling.

What would a normal person do, then? Someone who didn't have to worry about making sure a ship full of people arrived safely and on time to its next destination in the middle of a war?

She shook her head and took a deep breath. She couldn't try to be a normal person just yet, then. Getting the _Normandy_ to Tuchanka safely and on time was currently her most pressing concern.

She moved over to the galaxy map to check on their progress. The tiny little _Normandy_ icon was drawing nearer to the relay that would take them to the Krogan DMZ cluster, and Tuchanka itself was only a few hours out from the DMZ relay. All in all, they probably had about nine hours of travel to go. They would arrive at 0300 ship's time, which translated to 1100 Tuchanka time.

If she put off their arrival for a couple of extra hours the crew would be in much better shape to go planetside, and that wouldn't bother Wrex. She sent the order through to the helm and shortly after received an acknowledgement from Joker's relief pilot, First Lieutenant Carter. She knew she couldn't actually feel the slight deceleration but she could almost trick herself into thinking she could.

The fact that it hadn't been Joker replying but his relief reminded her that he and all the other original SR-1 and SR-2 crewmembers were probably in Port Observation getting comfortable for Kasumi's movie night. She had debated whether or not to go along, but in the end decided that even if they were going to watch vids of her past missions, which would no doubt be uncomfortable, she still wanted to spend time with her crew. Her friends. Relaxing and, well, doing what normal people did. She had finished her planning for now, anyway. All she was doing was staring at an empty screen.

She returned to her cabin to grab a quick shower. Afterward she changed into fatigues and an old, comfy black N7 shirt. As she pulled her hair into a loose over-the-shoulder tail she reflected that it actually felt good to step out from under the extra bars her new rank granted her and replace them with the familiar N7 designation. She had told Garrus that it didn't make a difference what rank she held, but that was only partially true. There was something about having the word 'Lieutenant' in front of 'Commander' that had acted almost like a safety net. Now she had huge responsibilities in name as well as in spirit. The safety net had been removed.

She made her way down to Port Observation and palmed the door open onto a darkened room. The shutter had been closed and a screen projected onto it from an overhead camera. Shepard didn't see any omnitools; she wondered if EDI was involved in this as well and had commandeered one of the ship's cameras for them to use as a projector. The seating in the room had been rearranged, the couches dragged into a loose semi-circle around the screen and the chairs from the poker table pulled out into the main area.

There were a lot of people there. It wasn't just the old _Normandy_ crew; she also spotted Sergeant Chan, crewman Taschev, and crewman Rogers as well as a couple more people she recognised from engineering. Thankfully they seemed to be settling in a little more; at least no one tried to get up to salute her this time. In fact, as she stood in the doorway someone spoke up with a touch of annoyance, "Don't just stand there, you're letting in all the light!" She hid a smile as she spotted one of the engineers' heads bob up to cast a glare in her direction. He blinked when he saw who he had just glared at. "Uh, sorry Commander," he added, looking a bit sheepish.

She shook her head. "Don't worry about it," she replied, stepping inside and letting the door shut behind her. A couple of heads turned at the sound of her voice but no one made a big deal about her presence, which she was grateful for.

Searching for a free seat, she spotted Nathan sprawling obnoxiously across the entirety of one of the corner couches. There was easily room for two there. No doubt he had done that on purpose. She smothered a smile.

She dodged around the other seated crewmembers, almost tripping over Garrus' long legs and catching herself before she stumbled against the back of Nathan's couch. "Sorry," she whispered to Garrus, feeling the back of her neck heat up slightly. The turian gave her a quick pat on the shoulder in commiseration.

Nathan was already moving out of the way to give her room, stretching his legs out along the long edge of the couch and spreading his arms along the back. _Subtle, Nathan. _She sat down next to him, maybe a little closer than was really necessary, but she was sure it was nothing that wouldn't seem to onlookers like she was just being friendly.

As she settled, he cast her a questioning look. In his eyes she saw caution, a significant amount of uncertainty and a glint of hope. He was trying to find out where they stood, she guessed. They would have to talk about it properly later, but for now looks would have to do. She met his eyes with a smile and a steady gaze of her own, trying to convey that they were fine and she didn't regret anything.

If the relieved smile was anything to go by, he seemed to understand. She turned her attention to the screen, where the camera was bobbing along through what looked like some sort of cargo storage area, following a figure in black armour. She recognised herself in the basic N7 armour Cerberus had given her. "What did I miss?" she asked him quietly. When she spotted the Shuriken SMG held up by arms covered in white reinforced leather she realised they had to be watching Miranda's cam, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out where she and Miranda were.

"We've already watched the Omega missions, now we're on to Purgatory," Nathan told her quietly.

"Oh, right," she murmured.

"You didn't know that?"

"I've fought my way through a hell of a lot of cargo areas, Briggs."

Now that he mentioned Purgatory, this particular cargo area was starting to look familiar. If she remembered correctly, there would be an ambush coming up right about…

The view on the screen darted to one side momentarily as Miranda ducked into cover. It then centred on the onscreen version of Shepard, who had found her own cover, while catching a peripheral glimpse of Garrus. Onscreen Shepard lifted a hand and indicated where she wanted Garrus and Miranda to go. Her order was followed with a terse 'Got it,' from Garrus and a 'Moving,' from Miranda, and Miranda's cam moved again as she ranged out to cover the right flank.

Shepard found it disconcerting watching herself issue instructions to her squadmates from a distance, as though it was an action movie. She had seen vids of herself on the battlefield before but she had always watched them with a view to improving on her tactics and performance rather than just for entertainment's sake. The occasional laughs and cheers from the crew surrounding her sounded strange to her ears.

A near miss that impacted right at eye level and had Miranda slamming herself hard back into the cover of a mechanical lifter had the crew gasping and making dramatic 'ooh, close' noises. Shepard winced as she spotted the shield indicator on the HUD Miranda had helpfully patched in to the camera feed. It was sitting at a solid two percent. If that shot had hit… She hadn't realised Miranda had come that close to actually dying that day. She sought Miranda out in the crowd and found her speaking softly to Kasumi. She didn't seem too shaken up, but then Miranda was always good at viewing a situation objectively. Shepard shifted in her seat uncomfortably.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and glanced over at Nathan. He was watching her with a concerned expression. "You okay?" he whispered.

"I'm fine," she replied, schooling her face back to neutrality. He looked dubious but didn't press the issue and withdrew his hand. He could be damned perceptive when he wanted to be, at least when it came to her.

The vid moved on into a large room with two bridges. Shepard remembered this one; it had been tricky to navigate tactically, especially when an YMIR mech had shown up. She watched as Miranda again took the right flank, while the onscreen Shepard and Garrus fought their way down to the supports of the first bridge and took cover there.

"Can I ask a question about tactics, or are we just having fun here?" Nathan asked, leaning over toward her.

Shepard _liked _tactical problems. She didn't think the two were mutually exclusive. And besides, it would be a very well-timed distraction. "We can't do both?"

"Well, I guess, but you're buried in tactics all day," he explained. "I didn't think you'd want to talk about it off duty as well."

She smiled. Thoughtful. "I like strategy. Go ahead."

"That bridge has both cover and height. Why not send your sniper up there?"

She didn't have to think too hard to remember her reasoning; after all, it was laid out on the screen in front of her. "Firstly, the bridge is narrow and the cover is only there in one direction. If Garrus got flanked there'd be nowhere for him to go."

"Oh. Shit, yeah," Nathan muttered, frowning at the screen.

"Second, look at what the bridge floor is made of."

He squinted. "That's a pretty wide grid pattern." He glanced at her, seeming to follow along with her thought process. "But you'd be under the bridge, so none of them could get in close enough to shoot up at Garrus."

"But if I was forced to pull back…"

Nathan nodded in understanding. "There'd be nowhere for Garrus to go without being exposed."

"Right," she confirmed, watching as the squad onscreen advanced forward. Garrus remained behind under the bridge while she and Miranda moved into the next cover.

"Okay, now Garrus is all by himself a long way away from you and Miranda," Nathan commented. "He could get flanked there too."

She shook her head. "But he won't. Why?" She looked over at him expectantly.

Nathan stared up at the screen, brow furrowing as he thought about it. Finally he replied, "Garrus and Miranda have overlapping fields of fire along the single approach to his position. And you can turn and back them up if needed while still remaining in cover."

She smiled. "Good. But you know what they say about plans surviving contact with the enemy. What does Garrus do if he _does _get flanked?"

Shepard glanced back over her shoulder as Garrus himself leaned over the back of their couch. "Yes, Briggs, what does Garrus do?" he asked.

Nathan glanced from Garrus back to Shepard. "Garrus rolls over to the other side of the bridge to give himself some distance and ducks around the end, where he can fire back on the flanker." Shepard grinned and nodded. Nathan matched her grin with a sly one as he turned back to Garrus. "And in the absence of a gold star, Garrus gets me a bowl of those cracker-things Chan made. Right?"

Garrus cocked his head to the side. "Gold star?"

Shepard shook her head. "Don't worry about it, Garrus. It's a human thing."

"When you're a kid in school you get a gold star if you get the right answer in a test," Nathan explained anyway.

"Oh. So… I'm the teacher and you're the child? Wait… are you calling yourself a child? Isn't it an insult for an adult human to be called a child?"

Shepard covered a laugh. Nathan looked surprised. "Yeah, it is," she confirmed cheerfully. Nathan gave her a dirty look, poking her in the side. She grinned at him.

Garrus chuckled. "I'll get you your snacks, kid. I need another beer anyway. Want anything, Shepard?"

"A beer. Thanks, Garrus."

Garrus returned with her beer and Nathan's snacks as well as his own bowl of dextro crackers. She and Garrus spent the next few vids quietly discussing strategy with Nathan while they all drank their beers and ate the snacks Chan had provided. She found herself surprised but impressed by Nathan's quick grasp of the concepts as well as his obvious interest in the subject. She wondered if that had been picked up by whoever had nominated him for N school.

The three of them continued talking long after the final vid – Thane's recruitment – had ended and the rest of the crew had left. Finally Garrus left too, leaving Shepard alone with Nathan.

She knew she would have to be up in only a few hours, but as soon as the turian left the room she found her eyes drawn to his almost immediately. Her skin practically tingled as he shifted closer and reached out to smooth some hair back behind her ear. "So… you mentioned something about practice earlier, Commander," he drawled.

"I did," she agreed. "Although I could have sworn I was talking about assault rifles at the time."

She leaned in and kissed him, almost melting into a puddle on the couch when her lips met his. God, he tasted so good. She slid her arms loosely around his neck and pressed her body up against the hard lines of his chest and thigh. He let the arm that had lain along the back of the couch fall down around her shoulders as he returned the kiss.

She ran her hands over his shoulders and down his chest, enjoying the feel of the heavy muscles beneath his shirt. His hands shifted to her face and he pulled her closer, running his tongue lightly over her bottom lip. She opened her mouth and met his tongue with hers, languorously caressing. She tucked a leg up underneath herself and half-kneeled to get a better angle, returning one hand to his shoulder and using the other to delve into his soft hair.

He gently nipped her bottom lip and before she could stop it, she let out an involuntary sound that reminded her far too much of a giggle. Her eyes flew open, mortified. Of course he had a huge grin on his face. "Did you just…"

"No!" she told him emphatically.

He cocked his head to the side, then kissed her again, sliding his hands down the length of her body to rest on her hips. His grin didn't fade as he caught her bottom lip lightly with his teeth then let go. "I think you did."

Goddamn him and his teasing! And his goddamn hands! "Of course I didn't," she protested. "I'm a marine! Marines don't do… _that_."

"Uh huh." He gripped her by the hips and neatly pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist. He leaned up to kiss her again. Shepard felt her embarrassment fade away as her lips moved on his. He tasted vaguely of coffee and beer. She idly wondered where the coffee had come from.

She stayed comfortably encircled in his arms, kissing him and being thoroughly kissed, for what felt like nowhere near enough time before she had to reluctantly pull away. It was getting late, and they would be at Tuchanka early tomorrow morning. She rested her forehead on his. He was holding her close and her arms were back draped around his neck. She could have happily stayed right where she was for much longer, but she didn't have the luxury of that right now. "We need to be up in a few hours," she murmured. "You're coming planetside with me."

He seemed to sober up. "Right. Tuchanka." She saw the realisation that they would soon be back to work dawn in his eyes and an invisible weight settled onto her own shoulders. Impulsively she found his lips with hers again. One last long, slow kiss. For now.

She finally stood up, pulling him up after her. They still hadn't talked, but there was no time for that now. At least she had made perfectly sure he knew the attraction between them was mutual.

She squeezed his hand, then let go and carefully straightened her hair and clothing. It was very unlikely she would run into anyone between Port Observation and the elevator but it was always best to be prepared. He took the cue and did the same.

"Good night, Lieutenant," she said, reaching up to smooth down a tuft of his unruly hair.

His smile this time was all affection, no teasing. "Good night, Commander."


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

Nathan leaned up against the side of the Kodiak, idly examining his pistol for marks and damage while he waited. Both he and Zaeed would be going groundside on Tuchanka with Shepard and Garrus, who would be holding talks with the krogan clan leader, Urdnot Wrex. He couldn't help but notice the amount of muscle the commander had gathered for this supposed diplomatic mission. Garrus was in full armour as well; with him and Shepard herself they would be four weaponry specialists with a little tech thrown in. It wasn't the most balanced ground team. Was she expecting trouble of a particular sort?

Shepard herself had yet to arrive. In fact, she was bordering on late, which was unusual for her. It had been a struggle for him to pull himself out of bed after only a few hours of sleep but he had managed it. She seemed to have far more personal discipline than he did; he wouldn't have thought it would be too hard for her. Nathan wondered what was keeping her. He hoped she wasn't having nightmares again. He was about to go and look for her when she finally appeared, stepping out of the elevator and striding across the shuttle bay in full dress uniform, royal blue jacket panelled with black leather and right arm decorated with the deep red stripe unique to those who had earned the N7 designation, royal blue trousers, cap with its leather-covered brim and all.

She looked good – but then, he thought she looked good in everything. He allowed himself a moment to admire the way the jacket lined the curve of her hips, then brought his mind sternly back to business. Dress uniform meant this was definitely a diplomatic mission. So why were he, Garrus and Zaeed in full armour?

Zaeed spoke up first after clearly having the same thoughts, gruff voice sounding dubious. "You look nice and all, Shepard, very goddamn pretty, but you're a bit under-dressed. You've got nowhere near enough guns."

She tossed him a dubious look at his use of the word "pretty" to describe her and fidgeted, smoothing the jacket down and resettling the cap on her neatly bound hair. In his years as a marine he hadn't found too many people that could pull off that cap, but somehow she managed it despite how uncomfortable she looked. Nathan noticed someone had adjusted the rank bars on her shoulders from those of a Lieutenant Commander to a full Commander, too. Idly he wondered who on the ship could sew. "It's a diplomatic mission, Zaeed," she explained. "I'm the official envoy. You boys are my escort." She glanced at Garrus. "Except Garrus. He's representing the Turian Hierarchy and he doesn't have a uniform."

Nathan looked from Zaeed back to Shepard. "In that case, I'm feeling a bit _over-_dressed in this armour."

Shepard motioned toward the shuttle, indicating for them to board. "Krogan respect power and strength more than politics. As an official Alliance envoy I'm required to be in dress uniform. So I demonstrate my power and strength in other ways."

Nathan stifled a chuckle and raised his hand. "I call strength. You can be power, Zaeed."

The mercenary cast a derisive look in his direction. "What are you on about, boy?"

"Ignore him, Zaeed," Shepard interjected. Although her tone didn't betray any amusement, Nathan spotted a smile twitching at her lips as she took a seat next to him. Garrus was last onboard; he closed the hatch and banged on the cockpit door to signal Cortez to get going.

It didn't take long for them to be airborne. As the shuttle descended through Tuchanka's atmosphere the monitor displayed a stark and unforgiving vista. Nathan could see no greenery anywhere, just sand, stone and ruined buildings. Even the sky was a dull yellow.

After the ruined and burning vistas of Earth and Palaven it seemed beyond beautiful to him.

Eventually they reached an enormous concrete silo, into which they flew. The shuttle descended quickly through the sparsely lit shadowy tube, taking them dozens of metres underground.

They disembarked onto a railed concrete landing pad, immediately coming face to face with a group of three hulking krogan. All three carried shotguns unholstered, but none were pointed at the new arrivals. Nathan didn't know much about the krogan, but he decided to take that as a positive.

Shepard stepped forward, her height and lack of armour contrasting sharply with the tall, bulky armoured figures surrounding her. Nathan marvelled at the fact that she somehow managed not to appear out of place.

One of the krogan jerked his head in the direction of a ramp leading down from the landing pad. "Commander Shepard. Follow us. Wrex is this way."

Nathan hadn't really expected a red carpet, refreshments and a parade of dignitaries, but he had thought an official visit from an Alliance envoy – particularly a war hero like Commander Shepard – would warrant a little more than the equivalent of 'hey you, leader is over there'. It had to be a cultural thing. He fell in behind Shepard and Garrus, with Zaeed taking the other flank. He wondered if he should draw his gun so he matched the stances of their welcoming committee, but quickly discarded that thought. Probably not a good idea.

The three krogan led them down a ramp, through a wide hatchway and over a steep mound of rubble before they reached an underground open area. Nathan managed to catch himself before tripping over a particularly jutting piece of concrete. He now understood that there had been practical considerations for Shepard's choice of dress pants over dress skirt. Heels and stockings came with the skirt; he doubted they would have lasted long in the current environment.

He looked out over the open area, which resembled the crumbling basement of a large building. At the far end a pair of huge ground vehicles stood near a shuttered garage door. He had never seen their like before, although they reminded him of an inflated version of the old M35 Mako. A group of krogan milled nearby, surrounding a sunken pit. Nathan couldn't make out what they were doing.

At the nearer end, closer to where they entered, more krogan gathered around a raised platform on which sat a tall concrete chair. The chair reminded Nathan vividly of a throne. One krogan sat on this "throne". His armour was a dark rusty red to match the plate covering his forehead, which was scored by three deep gouges. As he caught sight of their little group, he got to his feet and bellowed clear across the room. "Shepard!"

The krogan stomped down from his dais to reach Shepard, who strode forward to meet him half way. The krogan's leathery lips stretched over his teeth in what Nathan hoped was a smile, not a snarl. As soon as he was within reach of Shepard he grabbed her hand and shook it violently, clapping her on the shoulder with what looked to be enough force to push her over had he not been holding onto her with his other hand. Nathan winced. Surely that had to have hurt.

Shepard didn't show any signs of discomfort, however, and her tone when she spoke was nothing short of delighted. "Wrex! Careful, I'm not in armour, you know."

The krogan seemed a bit taken aback. "Oh. Sorry," he grumbled, and patted her shoulder again, this time more gently.

She laughed. "Don't worry about it. It's good to see you, Wrex," she said.

"You too, Shepard." He eyed her uniform. "What is _that_?"

"It's a uniform, Wrex. It's protocol. You're supposed to be impressed."

Wrex snorted. "You look soft, Shepard. Squishy. It doesn't suit you."

"Aw, now you've hurt my feelings," she told him cheerfully.

"This 'summit' is off to a good start, then," he replied, equally jovial. "Come on." Nathan found himself taking an instant liking to Urdnot Wrex.

He led them past the dais and the gathered krogan into a smaller, enclosed room. It was made of yet more concrete, but gashes in the ceiling allowed swathes of sunlight to shine onto the floor below. The effect was warm and almost welcoming, or at least the krogan version of welcoming. Nathan was starting to see that the ideas of comfort and beauty didn't really mesh with the krogan psyche. Although he did note that he hadn't yet spotted any female krogan. Was this an area set aside for males? And if so, would the area for females be different? He had no idea how krogan society worked, beyond the occasional news story about some mad scientist or other claiming to be close to a cure for the genophage.

A number of chairs – concrete, of course – had been set around a large, heavy table. The table was slightly lop-sided and made of some kind of metal covered in generous patches of rust. Wrex took a seat on one side of the table and waved a hand toward the other side, indicating Shepard should take a chair near one of the rust-free areas. Garrus sat beside her, leaving Nathan and Zaeed to take up position unobtrusively against the wall behind the two envoys.

Shepard removed her cap and set it on the table before her, then leaned forward on her elbows. "Here's where I'm supposed to say a bunch of flowery words about the Alliance, and how having us as an ally is going to be the best thing you ever did. I'm more than happy to skip past that crap if you are, Wrex," she said bluntly.

Nathan blinked. Not… exactly how he pictured a diplomatic negotiation to begin.

Wrex seemed pleased though. "Ha. Very happy. I know why you're really here. And why Vakarian is here." Poor Garrus had hardly been noticed until now, but he seemed to be accustomed to letting Shepard do all the talking.

"Oh? Why are we here?" Shepard asked mildly.

"You need a krogan army to help take back Palaven."

She sat back in her seat with a satisfied smirk. "You're well-informed."

"I got word a couple of days ago that the Reapers had attacked Palaven. And that it was bad." Wrex turned to Garrus. "Sorry, Vakarian." Garrus inclined his head in acknowledgement and Wrex turned back to Shepard. "You too, Shepard. I heard about Earth."

"Both Palaven and Earth are in bad shape," Shepard replied grimly. "We can't do anything about Earth right now. But we _can _take back Palaven, with your help."

"Hm. Even with a krogan army on the ground, the turian fleet won't be enough to fight them in space," Wrex warned.

Shepard nodded. "I know. Hackett is going to lend me the third fleet. And—"

Wrex grunted in laughter. "That's generous," he commented. "Is he going to wrap it up in a bow for you too?"

"Ha ha, Wrex. He likes me," Shepard replied nonchalantly. Nathan could hear the sly humour in her voice. "Probably because I know how to kill Reapers."

The krogan's laughter dissipated and he eyed her from across the table. "You mean without needing an entire fleet for each Reaper?"

"Just a very good pilot with a thanix cannon."

Wrex grumbled appreciatively low in his chest. "You found a weakness." Shepard smiled and inclined her head. "That changes things. I came here ready to turn you down, Shepard. We're starting to see Reaper scouting parties on Tuchanka. I can't afford to send my people off to fight a losing battle when Tuchanka is in danger. But now… hm." He sat back in his chair, thinking.

"We'll need a lot of krogan, Wrex," Shepard warned him, deadly serious now. "Many _will _die. Tuchanka would have to be left all but defenceless in the meantime. But I wouldn't be asking if I didn't think we could win."

Garrus leaned forward. "If we can push the Reapers off Palaven the turian fleet will be free to aid both Earth and Tuchanka."

"You trying to create some kind of galactic coalition?" Wrex asked.

Shepard glanced at Garrus and shrugged. "Not in so many words. But… we'll all be wiped out if we don't band together."

No matter how well he knew that, the offhand statement still sent a chill through Nathan's bones. _Wiped out. _There was no nice way to say they were all facing extinction. He was fighting in a war for his race's very survival. He shifted his weight, hoping Wrex would see that too.

He didn't have to wait long. "I'm in," the krogan said gravely. "You'll have the krogan."

Shepard paused, cautious. "Just like that? No negotiations? No demands?"

"I was with you on Virmire when you first spoke to Sovereign, Shepard, and I've seen the reports of what the Reapers are doing now. It's going to be a hell of a fight but we _can't_ let them win. Particularly not now."

Shepard's head cocked slightly to the side. "Why particularly not now?"

Wrex shoved himself to his feet. "Follow me. I'll show you."

Shepard and Garrus followed Wrex, and Nathan and Zaeed fell in behind them. The krogan battlemaster led them across the compound, striding confidently through the cluster of krogan milling around the throne. Shepard spoke up when they drew near the exit leading to the shuttle pad. "If this is another rogue clan or a thresher maw I'm going to need my armour," she warned mildly.

_Rogue clan? Thresher maw? _Nothing like that had been in the vids at movie night. Nathan made a mental note to ask Kasumi and Miranda about the last time Shepard and her crew were on Tuchanka when he returned to the ship.

"Ha. We don't need you to fight our battles anymore, Shepard," Wrex told her. "You won't need armour." He skirted around the edge of the pit Nathan had spotted before. Yelps and snarls issued from within. Nathan took the opportunity to take a look inside as they passed. Two varren fought viciously in the centre while the surrounding krogan cheered and placed bets. He grimaced and looked away.

Wrex singled out one of the spectators and nodded toward the two Mako-like vehicles by the shuttered garage door. The krogan lumbered ahead of them and climbed into one. Soon after, its engine roared to life. Wrex ushered them inside.

The journey was a long, bumpy one. There were no windows, but the truck had screens in the passenger compartment showing the view outside, similar to the Kodiak. Nathan watched as they sped along wide but crumbling roads, occasionally having to detour around particularly deteriorated stretches of pavement. Eventually the truck descended into a tunnel leading underground, and Nathan could see nothing on the monitors aside from the occasional dim light on the tunnel wall.

Wrex was tight-lipped about what he was taking them to see. Shepard pressed him about his earlier statement that he no longer needed her help, asking about clan strength and unity, but he gave her noncommittal answers and smugly told her to wait and see. Nathan could tell he was excited – and maybe a little bit smug – about whatever awaited them at the end of this journey.

When they finally rolled to a stop it was in a small, nondescript garage. They all climbed out and Wrex guided them over to an even more nondescript door. Nathan noted, however, that this innocuous door required Wrex to pass what appeared to be a DNA scan before it opened. The advanced technology stood out. It was completely at odds with everything else he had seen on Tuchanka.

Before he let them through, Wrex turned to Shepard. Gravely, he said, "This is the future of the krogan." He stepped through the door, and they followed.

The door opened onto an immense gallery. A wide thoroughfare extended out before them, lined with at least five stories of balconies carved directly from a darker, richer rock than anything Nathan had seen before on Tuchanka. The balconies were illuminated by covered lamps and decorated with bold swirls of black and ochre-coloured paint. Nathan sucked in a breath. The effect was earthy and tribal, but beautiful, and it was only accentuated by the rich green vines crawling along the balcony walls. He had been starting to think that Tuchanka was all but dead, that nothing green would grow here anymore. He was glad to be proven wrong.

Krogan of all shapes and sizes went about their business, paying no attention to the new arrivals. Some wore armour, but their numbers were few and they were mostly confined to what looked to be guard positions along the walls. Most wore long robes in a variety of muted colours. Some had their heads covered, some did not. Of those who did not, Nathan spotted some who appeared to be missing the ubiquitous forehead plating he was accustomed to seeing. He took in the slightly more delicate features and the narrower slant to their jaws and concluded that these were krogan _females. _One thing he did know about krogan culture was that their females were reclusive, rarely venturing off Tuchanka. With a start, he realised that they were being shown one of the most secret and valuable places for the krogan people.

He heard Shepard gasp as Wrex moved further into the cavern, leading them up to the edge of a pool of water set into the middle of the boulevard. Garrus let out a murmur of appreciation and even Zaeed was quiet. The pool was lined by garden beds filled with palm-like plants and mossy ground coverings. Nathan could hear a faint trickle of water coming from nearby, and assumed the pool was fed by an underground stream. "_Wrex,"_ Shepard murmured, voice filled with reverence. "This is… amazing. I never expected you would be able to…" she trailed off, gazing around the cavern.

Wrex was smiling proudly, but he shook his head. "I can't take full credit for this. This place wasn't just my idea. There's someone I want you to meet."

He led them away again, into one of the buildings lining the boulevard and through a number of hallways and smaller rooms. Eventually they reached an area that seemed different. The walls and floor were scrubbed clean and there was a hint of an antiseptic smell in the air. Wrex took them through another door secured by a DNA scanner and into a well-equipped medical facility.

A dozen beds lined the walls, about half occupied with female krogan. Some were sleeping, others were hooked up to medical equipment. One was sitting on the side of her bed as though she had just been getting up to leave. She wore a fully hooded robe, leaving only her eyes visible behind swathes of deep blue and green cloth. Standing beside her was another krogan female, wearing armour similar in design to Wrex's own but coloured dark green.

Wrex strode forward to stand with the two females. "This is Gadorn Akora, leader of Clan Gadorn, and this is the shaman of Clan Gadorn. As Urdnot is now the forefront male clan, Gadorn is the prominent female clan," he introduced them.

Shepard stepped forward, extending her hand. "Commander Shepard of the Systems Alliance. It's an honour."

Gadorn Akora took her hand, but her movements were wary. "Commander Shepard. I have heard of you," she replied, her voice deep and powerful. Although her words were cautious, Nathan detected an undercurrent of respect. "You are a great warrior." Shepard inclined her head.

The Gadorn shaman – Nathan wondered why she had not been introduced by name – extended her own hand in a far more assured gesture than her clanswoman. "Commander. The honour is mine." Her voice was deeper still, but also vaguely melodic, laced with levels of wisdom he had never before heard from another living being. He found himself holding his breath, the better to hear her speak.

"Your home is beautiful, Shaman. But it is not something I expected to see on Tuchanka," Shepard admitted, shaking the offered hand. Nathan wondered if hand-shaking meant the same in krogan culture as it did in human, or if the krogan were just doing it for Shepard's benefit.

"Clan Gadorn has been building in the Pharos Valley for many years," the shaman explained. "It was intended originally to be a stronghold when the female clans came together to protect our fertile sisters and their children. It has since evolved."

"Wrex told me about the plan to create a neutral ground to protect the fertile females and facilitate cooperation between clans. This is it?" Shepard asked.

"Yes, but it will soon be more," Akora replied. "Wrex and I have been negotiating on how best to unite the krogan people. We agree the Pharos Valley is the best location for our new shared home."

"Forgive me, but won't the other clans object to Clan Urdnot getting a monopoly on all the fertile females?" Garrus asked.

Akora bristled, and suddenly she was inches away from Garrus' face. She moved quickly for a krogan. The turian looked surprised, but stood his ground. "The females of Clan Gadorn are tired of being treated like commodities. No clan will have a _monopoly _on any female. Females – _and _males – will be free to choose their mate however they see fit."

The Gadorn shaman interjected, a calming influence on her angry clan leader. "We have not been free to behave this way in the past. But now that we are close to a cure for the genophage, we have new options."

Shepard's head jerked from the shaman to Wrex and Akora. "You're _what?"_

"Shepard!"

Nathan spun to a door over on the other side of the room, which had just slid open to reveal a salarian dressed in distinctive red and white armour. His wide mouth was stretched upward at the corners, big black eyes twinkling as he grinned.

Shepard matched his grin with one of her own. "Mordin!" she exclaimed, hurrying over to the salarian and grasping him by the shoulder. "What are you doing here?"

"Needed something meaningful after the Collectors were destroyed. Was having trouble reconciling Maelon's treatment of the krogan females while researching his own cure. Was wrong. Too cruel. Maelon was my protégé; felt responsible. Couldn't leave it at that. Had to finish the job myself. Someone else might have gotten it wrong."

Nathan blinked. Mordin was a hell of a fast talker. He hadn't understood half of what he had just said. Despite that, he felt himself starting to smile along with Shepard as she listened to the amiable salarian.

Shepard was obviously accustomed to it. "You just decided one day to come to Tuchanka?"

Mordin shook his head. "No. Discussed problem with Wrex first. Took weeks. Terrible message etiquette, bad spelling." Wrex grumbled to himself. "But then, was introduced to Gadorn shaman. Much better spelling. She invited me here."

"I'm surprised you were willing to trust a salarian," Garrus murmured to the shaman.

"I wasn't," she replied. "But I was willing to trust Wrex, and Urdnot Grunt."

"Is Grunt here too?" Shepard asked hopefully.

Wrex shook his head. "No. He is now in command of Aralakh company. I sent him out to investigate some strange signals we've been picking up coming from the rachni relay."

"The rachni? When I freed the queen back on Noveria, she promised to stay quiet and hidden. Dammit!" Shepard swore.

"We don't know it's the rachni yet, Shepard."

"Would it be better if it was the Reapers?" she countered, and sighed. "I can head out there and take a look after we're done here."

Wrex huffed. "I wasn't asking for your help, Shepard. I told you, we don't need you to fight our battles anymore. Grunt has it under control."

Shepard raised her eyebrows. "Oh. Sorry, Wrex. Force of habit." She returned her attention to Mordin. "So you're about to cure the genophage?"

Mordin's leathery face stretched into a grin. "Yes. Have been working on it for months. Will be able to produce cure within weeks."

"And this will mean that all krogan females can reclaim their rightful place in society," Akora finished. "Our lives will no longer revolve around protecting those of us able to bear healthy children because we will _all_ be able to do so, should we wish to. We will be able to choose our own paths."

"There are many scientists, artists and engineers among Clan Gadorn," Wrex added. "The krogan people will be better off when we can all live peacefully together once more."

Shepard nodded slowly. "I see why you are willing to offer me troops to help reclaim Palaven. You have a hell of a future to protect."

"Wrex does not speak for Clan Gadorn," Akora interjected, and her tone was wary again. "Before I agree to commit the companies of Gadorn to your cause, I need to hear your plans."

Shepard nodded in agreement. "Of course. Is there somewhere we can talk without disturbing the patients here?"

Akora nodded. "Follow me."

* * *

_A/N: Hit 50 favourites today! Thank you so much to everyone who is favouriting and following. I really hope you're enjoying the story._


	20. Chapter 20

_A/N: This one's rated M for a reason._

* * *

**Chapter Twenty**

Shepard was feeling positively buoyant when she boarded the shuttle after the mission to Tuchanka. Things had turned out far better than she could ever have hoped for.

She had not one krogan army, but _two_.

After they had sat down together and talked over the details of Shepard's plan for Palaven, Gadorn Akora had agreed to provide female krogan warriors to stand alongside their male counterparts. She had been hesitant at first; like Wrex, Akora had been worried about leaving Tuchanka undefended when they were so close to a cure for the genophage. But unlike Wrex, she didn't have an innate faith in Shepard to automatically tip the scales in her favour, so she had taken a lot of convincing. She did have a keen tactical eye, however – perhaps even more so than Wrex – which enabled her to see the advantages to striking the Reapers now, while they were relatively weak and divided.

She and Wrex had also been concerned about depleting a female population that would be required for repopulation after the cure was synthesised. Shepard had swallowed her disbelief that such huge considerations were somehow once again partly her responsibility, and had Mordin crunch the numbers. They had ensured enough female krogan were left behind in the Pharos Valley to keep the krogan race alive, should the worst come to pass.

Both Wrex and Akora clearly understood the threat the Reapers posed to the galaxy as a whole. The fact that she didn't have to convince them of _that _made Shepard very happy. It completely boggled her mind that the Council _still _insisted on stubbornly not backing her.

It also boded well for the krogan people that its two senior clan leaders complemented each other so perfectly. Wrex was the consummate soldier, the strong, stoic leader on the frontlines with his soldiers, while Akora seemed to be more of a strategist, a metaphorical sniper and architect of battle who always had her soldiers' backs. Aside from that, they also appeared to get along relatively well. She knew that was mostly Wrex's doing. He had changed a lot since those first days chasing after Fist on the Citadel. It was his willingness to overcome centuries of warlike krogan tradition and stubbornness to bring the krogan together as a species that made such a partnership possible.

The two leaders had agreed to provide a significant number of krogan warriors, leaving a skeleton crew behind to defend Mordin, his cure, and the females who would not be fighting. Despite Shepard's desire to attack as soon as possible, she had to accede to the need to gather civilians at the Pharos Valley before the warriors left, as well as to the logistics of transporting the sheer numbers of krogan that would travel to Palaven. It couldn't all be arranged at the snap of her fingers. At best, she had been advised it would take three days to prepare the Valley and gather the required troop transports from the turian and human fleets, and a further three days, accounting for the logistics of the move, for the krogan to actually get to Palaven. The time involved was frustrating, but there wasn't a lot she could do about it other than get onto Hackett to speed up those troop transports. She made a mental note to do that as soon as she returned to the _Normandy_.

She could hardly believe Mordin was close to a cure for the genophage. After all this time, after having come across two almost-cures, it was finally going to happen. She could see why Wrex was so optimistic now, compared to his understandably troubled and resentful demeanour during the fight against Saren. It was the culmination of all his hard work, all his hopes and dreams for his people. It had to be devastating knowing it could all be lost if the Reapers were allowed to succeed with their genocidal plans.

It was yet another reason why she would do everything within her power to prevent that from happening.

She claimed a seat in the shuttle on the other side of a bulkhead from Zaeed and pulled her dress cap off gratefully, running a hand over her hair. The heat of Tuchanka had left her sweaty and uncomfortable in her jacket and cap, and _thirsty_. She wished she had thought to bring some water with her.

As Nathan took a seat next to her she glanced over at him, covertly admiring the solid figure he cut in his heavy armour. There was something… sexy about the way he wore his armour, in the way it both hid and enhanced the muscles beneath. Ironically he would probably be feeling a lot better in that armour, with its environmental controls keeping him cool and an on board water reservoir keeping him hydrated, than she was in her uniform.

The idea of how sexy he looked and how cool and comfortable he must be only made her feel sweatier and thirstier. She shrugged out of her jacket, stuffing it into the gap between herself and the bulkhead, and leaned back against the cool metal wall of the shuttle as they took off. She closed her eyes and pointedly did _not _think about the man sitting next to her. Instead she indulged herself in imagined scenarios involving Reapers dying in many varied and interesting ways over Palaven while krogan decimated waves of constructs on the surface.

They were in the air over Tuchanka when she felt a nudge from an armoured elbow. She opened her eyes and cast a questioning glance at Nathan. He had managed to fish out the tube leading to his hardsuit's water reservoir from within his collar-guard and was offering it to her.

The smile she gave him was filled with gratitude. The tube obviously wasn't intended to be shared, so it didn't stretch very far, which meant she would have to get very close to Nathan to use it. In her current slightly overheated state, however, she saw that as a bonus. She shifted herself up higher in her seat and took the end of the straw in her mouth, closing her eyes as cool water trickled down her throat. The ceramic of his armour was hard and cool against her bare arm; it felt wonderful.

When she opened her eyes he was right there in front of her, all soft brown eyes and warm skin. She breathed him in, nose filling with his familiar scent. She found herself drifting closer until her nose was no more than a hair's breadth from his. He brushed his nose softly against hers and she felt warmth spread through her stomach. His lips touched hers, the barest hint of a feather-light caress.

"_Commander?"_

She jumped, jerking back into her own seat and back to reality as Joker's voice came over her in-ear comm. She cleared her throat and raised a finger to her ear, feeling like a complete idiot. _Mid-mission, Shepard? Focus._ "What is it, Joker?" she asked. Carefully she kept her eyes off Nathan, ignoring the satisfied little grin on his face. Damn him.

"_There's something wrong with the _Normandy_," _Joker told her, sans his usual wise-cracking.

That got her full attention. She stood up as the warmth in her stomach quickly receded, replaced by a sliver of ice. "Be a bit more specific, Joker," she told him impatiently.

"_We're getting power fluctuations, Commander. Adams can't pinpoint the cause. And… I can't raise EDI."_

She swore to herself. _That _wasn't good. If something had happened to EDI, or even worse, compromised her… "Lock the _Normandy's_ systems down, Joker. Can you cut EDI's access?"

"_No, ma'am, already tried that. But she wouldn't… this has to be something else."_

"I know she wouldn't, but she can still be hacked." Shepard softened her tone as she recognised the worry in his voice. "Get your breather on just in case and issue an alert. Tell the rest of the crew to do the same. Get someone down to the cargo bay ready to manually crank the door open to let us in if necessary," she ordered, mentally running through possible scenarios, roadblocks a potentially compromised AI might throw up in their path.

"_Aye aye, ma'am," _Joker replied. The comm clicked as he signed off.

"Shepard?" Zaeed spoke up in his gruff voice. "What's going on?"

She grabbed hold of one of the straps overhead as the shuttle jolted. "I don't know yet. The _Normandy's_ systems have gone haywire and EDI isn't responding."

"The VI?" Nathan questioned. "You think it's been hacked?"

She looked at him in confusion. "VI? Haven't you been introduced to EDI yet?" She shook her head. How had she missed that? Later. "Never mind. EDI is a fully self-aware AI."

"A what? An AI? How did—What about—Wait. You know what, never mind. Nothing can possibly surprise me about you or the _Normandy_ anymore, Commander," Nathan finished, shaking his head and visibly pushing his questions aside. "Do you think the _AI_ has been hacked?"

"I hope not," Shepard replied, ignoring his internal struggle as she paced the length of the shuttle. "In fact, it's highly unlikely. She's far too sophisticated for that."

"Could she have gone rogue?" Zaeed asked. "She's always making those goddamn jokes about humans on their knees."

Shepard shook her head. "Also highly unlikely. EDI wouldn't do that. She has become self-aware enough to be part of the crew," she explained for Nathan's benefit. "No. I don't know what's going on." She opened the cockpit door and leaned in. "Cortez, did you catch all that?"

"Yes, ma'am," the shuttle pilot replied. "Already double-timing it."

The remainder of the shuttle ride was tense as she hung over Cortez's shoulder, watching the gleaming white hull of the _Normandy_ approach, all thoughts of Nathan and that agonisingly near-kiss forgotten for the moment. The cargo bay door swung open at Cortez's remote command and they docked without incident.

The cargo bay was bathed in the dull red of the emergency alert lights and had been evacuated, bar a single crewwoman in a full set of vacuum-sealed armour, probably the one Joker had sent down to manually open the bay doors if necessary. She stood near the terminals as Shepard and the ground team came on board, fingering her obviously unfamiliar pistol nervously. When she spotted Shepard she seemed to visibly relax, moving back out of the way.

As soon as she set foot on the deck of the _Normandy_ Shepard raised her eyes to the ceiling and called for EDI. Instead of EDI, however, she got Miranda. "Commander, you need to get to the AI core immediately."

"On my way." Miranda didn't sound hurt or angry or under duress, but Shepard grabbed a pistol from the locker on her way past anyway, nodding at the barely-regulation salute of the frightened crewwoman. She had been feeling naked without a weapon the whole time she was on Tuchanka. It was good to have the solid grip of a gun back in her hand.

She was glad she had it when she stepped through the doors of the AI core and came face to face with Dr Eva Core.

In a flash the pistol was up and trained on Core's forehead. Before she could fire, however, Core raised her hands and quickly said, "Shepard."

In EDI's voice.

Shepard paused. _What the hell? _"EDI?"

Miranda and Joker, who had been standing off to one side when she entered, stepped forward to stand alongside the mech. "Yep," Joker drawled. "It's EDI."

"Explain," she ordered, keeping her weapon raised but aiming slightly to one side of the mech's head.

EDI herself spoke up, her voice again coming from Dr Eva's body. "I was scanning this platform's systems for intelligence as you requested, when I tripped a hidden failsafe and it began to fight back. Hence the fire." Shepard noticed the black scorch marks on the surrounding equipment for the first time. She narrowed her eyes, feeling anger bloom in her chest. "I was able to bring it under control using the Normandy's automated systems, but it required my full processing power. I was unable to prevent some minor power fluctuations, nor warn the crew. I am sorry for startling you, Shepard."

Gritting her teeth, Shepard lowered her weapon and tucked it into the waistband of her pants. It had required EDI's _full _processing power? EDI's processing power was _huge. _"You're sorry for _startling _me? EDI, surely you had some idea this might happen."

"It was a relatively low probability, but… yes. It is why I chose to perform certain scans at a time when the _Normandy_ was in a relatively safe environment."

"Why you chose… EDI, what the hell were you thinking?" Shepard demanded. "If you're putting _my_ ship and _my_ crew in danger, _I_ need to know about it. I don't care how low the probability is, or what you've done to mitigate the risk!" She allowed the volume of her voice to raise until she was almost yelling. "This is my ship and I'm responsible for it and everyone on board. Do you understand?"

Somehow EDI managed to make her new mechanical body appear chastened. "I understand, Commander. It will not happen again."

"Good." Shepard paced a couple of steps, catching sight of Nathan and Zaeed behind her as she tried to calm the anger threatening to boil over from within. What the _hell _had EDI thought she was doing? Nathan had his own pistol in hand but lowered, and Zaeed was still pointing his assault rifle at EDI. Shepard briskly waved them down then turned back, arms crossed over her chest. "Now, tell me how you went from fighting this body to inhabiting it."

EDI explained how she had decided to take over the body after her defeat of its previous AI inhabitant had revealed a method to do so. She had considered the advantages to possessing a mobile platform able to accompany the assault team on ground missions to be greater than the potential for any lingering booby-traps. She had calculated the probability of any of _those _existingto be infinitesimally small and easily within her capabilities to disable.

Shepard had to grudgingly admit that even though she was angry, she was intrigued about the new tactical possibilities having EDI on her ground team would give her. "All right," she forced out through gritted teeth. "Before I take you with me anywhere, EDI, I need a full report on the capabilities and limitations of this… platform. Perform whatever tests you deem necessary and get that to me by this time tomorrow."

EDI lowered her head in acknowledgement. "Yes, Commander."

Shepard wasn't done. "In addition to that you will spend the next twenty-four hours studying all of the vids and data from my previous ground missions, along with as much footage of ground combat in general as you can get. You've been watching us from the start but you've never actually set foot into a combat zone. You've never been shot at before. It's very different to watching vids, let me tell you. This time tomorrow you will report to me and I will assess your competency and fitness for combat."

"Yes, Commander."

"Good. One last thing. For almost setting my ship on fire, EDI, you are confined to quarters. For the next twenty-four hours you will limit your functions to that of a shipboard VI. Your platform will remain in the AI core and you will have no contact with any of the crew other than to fulfil those duties. Is that understood?"

She thought EDI might have looked a little disappointed at that. Good, she had judged her punishment correctly, then_. _"Yes, Commander, I understand."

Shepard nodded sharply, giving Joker a significant look. "Dismissed," she said. "Miranda, secure the ship from alert."

Joker cast EDI a pained look filled with curiosity but did as ordered. Miranda cast her a quick salute then headed for the mess area, followed by Zaeed and Nathan. She herself made directly for the elevator. Her anger was barely simmering now, her desire for a shower to get rid of all the sweat and dust from Tuchanka winning out over anything else.

The shower would have to wait a little longer, though. She had a lot to think about now that she had a potential new team member in EDI. There was also the matter of the messages she had sent to her old crew back before Menae. With all her preparations for the battle on Palaven and the summit on Tuchanka she hadn't dared take a few minutes to find out if she had received any replies. She had time now – days of it – and it was about time she got onto that. She had wanted to try and recruit Samara, Jack and Tali if she could. Tali's engineering and technical expertise in particular would be most welcome, but she also wanted Jack's sheer biotic power and Samara's centuries of knowledge and wisdom to round out her team.

She boarded the elevator and slapped the button for the loft, running a hand over her dusty forehead. Perhaps she would have that shower first, after all.

Before the doors could close, an armoured hand inserted itself between the sensors and Nathan ducked inside. She was mildly surprised; she thought he had gone to the mess. He was still in full armour, face slightly flushed and hair sticking up all over the place. He looked just as sweaty and hot as she was, but he was still _gorgeous._

He leaned up against the wall on one side of the elevator, eyeing her keenly. "So, that was EDI. An AI," he commented.

She nodded, trying valiantly to push away her mild irritation. Normally she loved talking with Nathan but right now her temper was frayed. All she wanted was to shower and relax. "Yes," she replied. "Well, the body is new. She just had a little blue head before."

He frowned and cocked his head to one side. "A… little blue head?" he repeated.

Shepard sighed in frustration. "A little…" she did her best to make the shape of a ball sitting on a narrow stand with her hands, "avatar. It looked like a head."

The lop-sided smile he gave her set her heart racing despite her irritation. _Why does he have to be so bloody _handsome? He sidled over to her and leaned his shoulder against the wall beside her. He was close enough that she had to look up to meet his eyes… beautiful liquid caramel eyes...

_Oh for fuck's sake, Shepard._

"You sounded pretty angry back there," he noted.

Oh right, she was angry. She had forgotten for a moment. "I was."

He reached a hand out, trailing a gloved finger along her hairline and around behind her ear. "Are you still angry?"

She blinked slowly as his finger meandered behind her ear, the material of his gloves brushing against the sensitive skin there. Her irritation had morphed into something a little more interesting, it seemed. "No," she replied.

"That's good," he murmured, sidling closer, finger now heading down her neck. "You're _hot _when you're giving orders."

Shepard couldn't help a small amused smile. "I do that a lot."

That lop-sided smile was back, only this time the heat in his eyes sent a coiling warmth through her belly. "I know, but there's a certain tone of voice you use sometimes… it gets to me, Shepard."

As his finger trailed its way down her sleeve, over the N7 stripe, she rested her hands on the armour covering his stomach. "Oh really?"

"Mmhm. You use that voice, and I want you. Right there."

She gave him a lazy smile. Slowly she ran her hands over his armour, caressing her way up to his collar-guard as if she was touching his skin. Taking hold of it she pulled his head down so she could whisper directly into his ear. "Kiss me, Lieutenant," she ordered him.

In one smooth move he had her pressed firmly up against the back wall of the elevator. His mouth descended on hers, hard and hot, tongue warm and wet in her mouth. Her heart thudded in her chest as she closed her eyes and lost herself in the sensations of his lips on hers, his tongue in her mouth, his stubble brushing against her cheeks. She forgot all about the work she had wanted to get done.

He eased a knee in between her legs, and muscles tightened low in her belly. She let out an involuntary noise as shivers of anticipation crawled up her spine. He worked his hand in behind her back, encircling her waist with his arm. The pressure of his thigh and the solid feel of his armour against and around her body was achingly good.

The elevator pinged and the doors slid open outside her quarters. She didn't stop to wonder why it had taken them so long to get there; she assumed EDI had a hand in it. She stumbled with him out into the tiny anteroom and started feeling for the catches to his armour with expert, impatient fingers. "EDI, lock down access to this floor," she called a little breathlessly.

She didn't hear the response as she pulled the heavy ceramic pieces off one by one. As nice as it was to feel his armoured body against hers, she wanted to feel his skin too. It took a few minutes punctuated by the occasional laugh or stumble but finally he was shrugging out of his skinsuit, leaving him in shorts and undershirt. Shepard reached for him, entwining her arms around his neck and pressing her body against his, enjoying the feel of his skin against hers without the barrier created by his armour. He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her tightly and gazing at her with his liquid brown eyes. What she saw there made her heartbeat quicken with more than just lust.

But it also gave her a moment's pause. Through the desire pulsing in her body she remembered why she had stopped this back on Earth, and she pulled back a little. She had made herself comfortable with her own reservations but she needed to know he was too. "Briggs… I need you to know that you have no obligation… I mean, just because I'm your CO… You can leave whenever you—"

"Shepard," he interrupted her, amused. "I started this, remember?"

_Oh, right. That was a good point. _She stood up taller within the circle of his arms and kissed him again, slowly, passionately. His arms were firm against her back, his chest warm and hard.

It didn't take long before the kiss deepened again, becoming harder and hotter. He ran his hands down her back, over her backside to grip her thighs, spreading her legs as he lifted her. She hooked her legs behind his back, clenching her thigh muscles tightly around his waist. His hands were doing captivating things to her sensitive inner thighs even through the material of her uniform trousers.

He stopped kissing her for a moment, glancing around the anteroom for inspiration. She took advantage of his distraction and leant down to capture an earlobe in her mouth, sucking and licking at the soft skin. "Fuck, Shepard," he groaned, moving over to the edge of the anteroom. She wasn't entirely sure what he was doing until he set her down on the guard-rail.

She chuckled lightly at his reaction, ignoring the hard, cold metal of the rail beneath her trouser-covered legs. She whispered, "That's the idea," directly into his ear, then kissed her way down the side of his neck to the edge of his shirt. She grasped for the shirt, pulling it up and over his head. His hands had found their way beneath the hem of her own shirt, but before he could try and remove it from her she continued along the path her kissing had been taking across his collarbone and down his chest.

He made a frustrated noise but ran light fingers up her spine, sending shivers through her body, and deftly unclasped her bra. When she deliberately didn't stop what she was doing to allow him to remove it he pulled back just enough to duck down and capture her mouth. She spotted a twinkle in his eye as he kissed her, pulling her shirt and bra up and over the tops of her breasts and finding her bare nipples with sweeps of his thumbs. She gasped against his mouth and suddenly found her own mouth full with his tongue. His fingers tweaked her nipples and caressed the soft flesh of her breasts, leaving a thoroughly pleasant ache between her legs and distracting her enough so that when he suddenly broke off the kiss he was able to pull her shirt and bra off in one swift, easy motion. "No fair," she complained breathlessly.

To her horror, his hands abruptly stilled. The familiar teasing look in his eyes took on a whole new meaning in this context. "Should I stop?" he asked.

She groaned. _Goddamn tease. _"God no."

He smirked and pulled her forward off the rail, turning her around and palming her breasts, stroking and caressing while he kissed her neck. Her ass was pressed back into his groin, and she could feel his hardness as she moved against him. She caught her breath as one of his hands meandered down her belly and found the clasp to her pants, flicking it open. His fingers dipped down into her underwear, brushing against her clit for the briefest of seconds before delving into the wetness below. She moaned, feeling her legs turn to jelly beneath her.

"You know, my quarters are right there," she breathed, head swimming with the sensations he was creating with his fingers. Those fingers. Damn, he was as good with them as she had hoped.

"Mmhm," he murmured into her ear. "Take off your pants."

She thought that was a great idea, so she did, quickly pushing them down and stepping out of them while trying not to move away from his fingers. When she straightened up again the feel of the cloth of his pants instead of his skin against her bare flesh was incredibly frustrating. She reached her hands behind her back, trying to get her addled brain to figure out how to undo the button on his pants backwards.

The deep chuckle in her ear at her efforts was both hot and a little evil. He plunged a finger inside her, his thumb found her clit and she immediately forgot what she had been doing. She clutched his waistband as his thumb moved in delicious swirls and the hand on her breast gave her nipple a light pinch. She couldn't take much more of this. "I swear to god, Nathan…" she gasped out.

"Something you want, Shepard?" he drawled.

She tilted her head back against his shoulder to meet his eyes and found that voice she normally kept only for giving out instructions to her squad. She knew exactly what it would do to him. When she spoke, though, it was with a much lower and huskier version. "Fuck me, Lieutenant," she ordered.

His eyes were dark with desire as he pressed his lips hard to hers and began walking back towards the door to her quarters, pulling her with him. She spun around and slipped the button on his shorts undone, pushing them down his hips without waiting for him to stop moving. He kicked them off impatiently. She slapped the door release then _finally _gripped him in her hands. He was hard, thick and ready. He almost stumbled at her touch. She had barely stroked him before he was lifting her again and setting her down on her desk after shoving a stack of datapads out of the way.

She met his forward motion with her own, taking hold of him again and after a couple of quick strokes of the silky smooth skin guiding him to her entrance. He held her tightly, finding her eyes and locking on to them as he pushed into her. Inch by inch she found it harder to keep her eyes open, finally letting them close as he buried himself inside her. She moaned, absorbed by the sensation of being filled, only to let out another groan as he withdrew, then slowly pushed back in.

He gradually built up a rhythm, meeting the pace she demanded with her thighs and calves as her body adjusted to accommodate his size. She wrapped an arm around his neck, using the other to brace herself against the desk as he slid in and out of her. Pulling his head down to hers, she kissed him, drowning in the ripples of pleasure setting every nerve ending in her body on fire.

She felt her belly begin to tense as he brought her, stroke by stroke, to the edge. With a sudden sure flick of her clit with the pad of his thumb she fell tumbling over.

She tensed, burying her head in his shoulder and crying out as all her muscles clenched at once and a flood of warm elation spread from her core all the way out to her fingers and toes. He grunted as her inner muscles tightened around him, bringing on his own release. She clamped her thighs tight around his waist, leaning her head against him through the aftershocks.

Gradually the sensations faded. She sighed contentedly and raised her face to his, finding him as sweaty and wrung-out as she felt, and now smeared with Tuchankan dust as well. He gave her a sloppy grin. She kissed him, long and slow.

When they finally broke apart, he was staring at her with wonder, and a little awe. She smiled up at him, basking in the afterglow, sure the same sentiments were written on her own face. "Damn, Briggs," she murmured. "You're good at that."

He kissed her tenderly, then whispered against her mouth by way of explanation, "You're beautiful, Shepard."

He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her again, taking her the few steps down to her bed below without breaking the kiss, and rolling onto the bed with her in his arms. She shifted off him and stretched out as he propped himself up on one elbow, reaching a hand out to trail his fingers over her exhausted body. Little tendrils of pleasure followed his fingers wherever they went.

She smiled up at him, pulling him down for another kiss. She felt her worries from earlier recede. She didn't feel like she was taking advantage of him at all. Like he had said, he initiated this. He had wanted it as much as she had, and he was certainly not some blushing inexperienced virgin. It was… mutual.

Of course, there was still a lot for them to talk about, but now wasn't the time. She turned and pulled his arms around herself, burrowing into his warmth like a blanket. Secure and content, she allowed the beating of his heart to lull her to sleep.

* * *

_A/N: Damn, and I thought the party chapter went through a lot of rewrites. I was aiming for a sex scene here, rather than smut, if that makes sense. I hope it worked. I hope you enjoyed it! As always, constructive criticism is very welcome, and thank you to those who are following and have favourited._


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-One**

After he woke up the following morning Nathan spent a good half hour believing he was in fact still asleep. There was no way his arms would be wrapped around a naked, perfect Commander Shepard if he was awake. But it wasn't often he had such vivid dreams so he lay there quietly, nose buried in her thick hair, chest pressed against her back, worried that if he moved he would wake up sooner. He breathed in her scent and tightened his arms on bare, soft skin.

She murmured and shifted in her sleep and he held his breath, sure the dream was about to end, but when he blinked she was still there. He let out his breath, and that was what convinced him that he was actually awake – in dreams he was always too preoccupied with what was happening to notice his own breathing.

He gazed down at her in wonder, the previous night replaying in glorious clarity in his mind. The sex had been _fantastic. _The feel of the strength in her deceptively soft thighs as they wrapped around his body, the sight of her round breasts and hard nipples and the look on her face as she moaned and writhed in response to his touch… That look was intoxicating, he wanted to see it again and again. She was beautiful, the most beautiful woman he had ever-

Shepard rolled slightly and let out a loud snore.

Nathan choked back a laugh, feeling a smile spread across his face. Of _course_ she snored. She snorted when she laughed, had the worst one-liners he had ever heard, tripped over her own feet when she wasn't in combat… she was _Shepard_. He loved it. All of it. His body shook as he lost the battle to suppress his silent laughter.

Shepard stirred, then mumbled and turned over, bleary-eyed and blinking. "Wha… Nathan? What's wrong?"

He shook his head, grinning. "Never mind. Sorry."

She frowned and tried to sit up, tiredly rubbing her nose. "Are you laughing at me?"

He pulled her back down into the circle of his arms. He wasn't quite ready to let her go just yet. "No," he told her. "Well, maybe. You snore, that's all."

She gave him a disbelieving look over her shoulder. "I do not snore."

"You do," he murmured into her neck, gently nuzzling with lips and nose.

"Not true," she argued softly, relaxing back against him. "I've never heard myself snore."

Terrible, terrible one-liners.

He chuckled, kissing his way slowly down her neck. He ran his hand down the length of her side, over the curves of breast and hip, luxuriating in the silky feel of her skin and the barely visible coiled muscles beneath. She sighed in pleasure, but then groaned in a way that had nothing to do with him. "What's the time?" she asked, rolling over in his arms and craning her head to see the chrono on the bedside table.

"Early," he told her, shifting onto his back and pulling her on top of him. For such a strong woman, she was so light. He had been able to lift her off her feet easily last night. More Cerberus mods? "Very early. So early that we should probably go back to sleep. Or, you know, we could do something else."

She rested her chin on her hands atop his chest. Her sleepy eyes sparkled with amusement and her long hair fell forward over her shoulders, tickling his skin. "Something else, huh?"

"Mmhm. I can think of plenty of things we could do."

He could feel those marvellous thighs again, gripping his hips as she straddled him. His body started to respond immediately. He pulled her down for a kiss, then shifted his lips to her ear and told her exactly what he wanted to do to her.

When she lifted her head, her blue eyes were dark. "You're going to need to show me some of those things you just said, Lieutenant," she said.

He grinned. He loved it when she used his rank, and he had a feeling she was fully aware of that. He rolled her over again, reversing their positions so she was pinned under his weight, looking up at him with those beautiful ocean-blue eyes. Leaning down, he began with the first thing.

* * *

Shepard groaned happily, stretching. The second thing he had shown her had taken quite a bit of stamina. She was exhausted… but in a good way. Nathan had propped himself up beside her. He leaned over and shifted some damp hair out of her eyes. "Again?" he teased.

She laughed and groaned again, shaking her head. "I don't think I can move anymore."

He kissed her, seeming awfully proud of that. "You'll have to lie here all day then," he murmured smugly into her ear, planting another kiss on her cheekbone.

She twined her fingers around his neck, playing with the damp hair at the base of his scalp. If only she could. "We can't stay in orbit over Tuchanka forever."

"We don't have to leave right away though, do we?"

She shook her head. "No. It will take days for the krogan to be ready to head to Palaven. But there are still things I need to do." She had a lot to do, actually. She had to check her terminal for messages, speak to Hackett, receive EDI's report, check in with the rest of the crew… everything she had planned to do before he had jumped into the elevator with her yesterday. She had no idea how long they had been in bed for this morning, but it had been very early when they had woken up. Hopefully it wasn't _too_ late in the morning now.

She glanced over at the chrono and winced. They had missed breakfast.

She sat up and made to head to the shower, but Nathan grabbed her hand before she could get up. "How do you want to handle… this?" he asked awkwardly, indicating the two of them.

Oh. They did need to have _that _talk. Shepard sighed in frustration. If they weren't aboard an Alliance military ship, if there weren't reporters like al'Jilani following her every move, things would be so much easier. She didn't really know how she wanted to handle those things. She only knew that she liked Nathan a lot and wanted to be with him. The stubborn side of her didn't want to break things off for the sake of how it would appear to others, but the practical, dutiful side…

Nathan sat up and turned away. She had been silent for too long. "Look, it's okay. I understand. How about we just treat this as a hell of a fun night and leave it at that?" he said. His voice was flippant, as usual, but he did a terrible job at trying to hide the hurt behind his words.

Her eyes widened and it was her turn to reach out for him. The last thing she wanted was for him to think even for a second that he was just some kind of stress relief. She scooted closer and gently pulled him back around to face her. "I don't want to do that," she told him firmly.

"You don't?"

She shook her head. "No. I… want to see you again. I want to find out where this thing between us goes."

His relieved smile prompted one of her own. He gently pressed his forehead to hers. "Good. So do I." Then he sighed and pulled away. "We could both get in a lot of shit for this, though. You in particular. Your face is all over the news, the press'll have a field day. And then there's the regs…"

Shepard felt a pang of nerves. He was right, it would be very difficult for the two of them to see one another. She might be willing to put herself through that, but it came with the territory for her. She didn't really have the right to ask him to do it too. "I can handle Hackett, but it'll turn into a problem if the media finds out. We will have to keep it quiet, even around the crew. Not so much the ground team, but the rest of the crew… It won't be easy. I understand if you're not interested in that sort of—"

"Shepard," Nathan interrupted. "I was more worried about you than me. I don't care about regs or having to hide if it means I get to be with you."

God, that was corny. So corny. But her treacherous heart skipped a beat anyway. He was willing to subject himself to what could be some very unwelcome scrutiny and possible repercussions just to be with her. She kissed him, wondering how his lips could be so new and exciting but feel so familiar at the same time.

With an effort she cut it short before it could get heated. "You had better go first, then. Take a shower if you want."

He shook his head, getting up. "If I show up all squeaky clean and no one remembers me using the crew shower it'll all be over before it's even begun. I can just say I was up early working out… which I kind of was." He gave her a sly grin, then with a quick final kiss he ducked out. He passed her discarded dress uniform in to her from the anteroom as he went. Shepard smiled to herself as she tucked it into the launderer and stepped into the shower.

Alone with her thoughts, she chuckled ruefully at how tired her legs were, as well as certain other decidedly under-used muscles. The two of them had behaved like a pair of horny teenagers last night, jumping on each other, then having sex twice more this morning. She vividly remembered having multiple orgasms at one point. It had been amazing. And yet, the sex hadn't been the best bit.

It was those brief moments between, or sometimes during, that she had really loved. Moments where they had become thoroughly caught up in each other's eyes, fleetingly conscious of the deeper feelings passing between them. There was an inexplicable feeling of familiarity to his eyes, too, just like there was to his lips. It wasn't that she recognised him from somewhere, or knew of someone who looked like him. Rather, it felt like she was recognising a kindred spirit. A partner. Someone she could share things with and know that he would understand. Someone she could trust to always have her back.

Which seemed completely counterintuitive considering how they had met and how much he had disliked her at the time, but it was there all the same.

She sighed regretfully to herself. As much as she had enjoyed last night and the morning, though, she really did have a lot of work to do and she had to focus on that.

She finished up her shower quickly and dressed in her white BDU shirt and standard fatigues, sans overalls, then headed down to the crew deck to grab a ration bar for a late breakfast. While she was there she ducked her head into Miranda's quarters, but she had already left for her shift.

She had to stifle a laugh as she headed to the elevator, nodding toward various crewmembers as they offered her salutes. She had _never _thought she would be able to convince Miranda Lawson to take a field commission and don an Alliance uniform, but somehow she had. She was grateful, too; the ex-Cerberus operative had been the best XO she had ever had. Granted she had only had two of those and Pressly, may he rest in peace, came in a very close second, but the point could still be made. Shepard was glad to have her back.

When she arrived in the CIC, she spotted Miranda leaning over the galaxy map. Dressed in uniform with her dark hair tied up in a regulation bun, she blended right in with the rest of the crew. Shepard thought it might take a while longer for her to _fully _blend in with the crew, socially and professionally, but for now it was enough for her to look the part well enough to be able to perform her job to the best of her ability. "Morning, XO," she greeted her cheerfully.

"Morning Shepard—oh, I suppose I mean _Commander_," Miranda replied, delivering a picture perfect salute.

Shepard beamed in approval. "Wow. You've been working on that," she commented. The woman had only ever saluted her once during the whole time they had spent hunting the Collectors, but when Miranda had accepted the field commission Shepard had made it clear she would have to follow correct military protocol, which included saluting. So far she had done it scrupulously well.

Miranda gave her an expectant look, holding her salute, waiting for Shepard to return it as per said protocol. Shepard thought about making her wait just because she was in a teasing mood, but decided against it. Miranda wasn't often one for teasing. She nodded instead. "At ease. Anything to report?"

Miranda glanced at Specialist Traynor, who was working at her terminal next to the map. "Actually, yes. You recall that I've been looking into Cerberus activities?" Shepard nodded, chewing on her ration bar. "Well, I found something interesting. I passed it to Specialist Traynor and we agreed it might be worth looking into."

Well, that explained the lack of notice Miranda had paid to her exceptionally good mood. She had been expecting sideways looks at least. "What did you find?" Shepard asked.

Miranda zoomed in on a system on the galaxy map, highlighting a seemingly empty area of space. "The Alliance maintains a number of small recruiting stations throughout Alliance space. They're used primarily to funnel new recruits from nearby planets to the best location for training, and to weed out those who are considered unsuitable. They are used for the recruitment of every role in the armed forces from cooks and engineers to special forces soldiers."

"Yes, I'm aware," Shepard replied.

Miranda nodded. "I recently found out from a source of mine that Cerberus was showing altogether too much interest in one of these stations. This one here, in the Sinerand system." She indicated the blank area of space on the galaxy map. Looking closer, Shepard could just about make out the tiny form of a space station.

"Your source is within Cerberus?"

"Yes, Commander, and before you ask, I _do _trust them." Shepard raised an eyebrow, remembering the last time Miranda had trusted a source beyond all doubt. Miranda gave her a knowing look and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. "This isn't like Niket. This time the source owes me quite a lot of credits, among other less purchasable things."

"All right, go on. Any idea why Cerberus is interested in a recruiting station?" Shepard finished off her ration bar and tucked the wrapper into a pocket to dispose of later.

Miranda's forehead creased with a frown. "Not… entirely. But the strange thing is that they appear to still be running it as a recruitment station."

"That doesn't sound entirely strange. I can believe Cerberus would recruit people and then deceive them into thinking they were working for the Alliance when in fact they were working for Cerberus."

"That was what I initially thought they were doing. However, my source tells me that overall Cerberus recruitment numbers don't match up."

"Don't match up how? Are they fudging the numbers somehow? Or keeping them off the books entirely, maybe?"

Miranda shook her head and looked at Sam, who jumped in. "Not with this number of people, no ma'am. Each monthly intake consists of approximately fifty recruits. That's six hundred per year. It would take some very creative accounting to hide them, or to provide for their salaries or other forms of upkeep while also keeping them off the books. I would have been able to spot discrepancies like that."

Shepard paced along the edge of the central console, thinking. Sam was right, those kinds of numbers couldn't just be blended in with other teams or be some sort of singular black ops team. "So Cerberus is funnelling people from this station to… where? And for how long have they been doing this?" she mused.

"I looked into that too, ma'am," Sam continued. "The odd thing is that there are nowhere near enough transports away from the station to possibly hold all of the missing recruits. And they've had control of the station for months."

"The station is too small and physically lacks the storage space for supplies to feed and house them all," Miranda added grimly.

Shepard felt a chill spread along her spine, good mood all but gone. She felt the weight of the galaxy piling itself back onto her shoulders and was almost angry about it… except she didn't have the right to be and she knew it. Defeating the Reapers had been made her responsibility and she had to bear it.

"So what are they doing to them that they wouldn't need to feed them?" she wondered aloud. Her mind immediately flew back to the half-husks dressed in Cerberus armour they had fought on Mars. She doubted they would need food. "Could this be where they're getting their husked troops from?"

Miranda nodded slowly. "There's a very high possibility, yes."

Shepard swore to herself. "Joker, how long would it take us to get the Sinerand system?" she called to the ship's comm.

"_It's not far, Commander. Twelve hours maybe?"_

She nodded. That would leave them enough time to get there, find out what Cerberus was up to, blow whatever it was to hell, then rest up before the big push on Palaven. "Set a course," she ordered. "Miranda, I want the assault team, Joker, and you, Traynor, in the war room at…" she glanced at a chrono, "1400 hours to start working on a plan of attack. You have until then to work out some options for me." She paused. "Good work, Miranda, Traynor."

Miranda gave her a curt nod and a "Yes, Commander," before striding off toward the cockpit. Traynor beamed happily and returned to work.

Shepard moved to her personal terminal and brought up the screen, mind working at a million miles a minute. It would be a huge coup to be able to take out Cerberus' husk processing facility, if that was what this was. If the Illusive Man really had the goal of controlling the Reapers rather than destroying them he would be trying to undermine her efforts to do just that at every opportunity he got. Reducing the size of his army would be crucial to her overall success. But if they were to have any chance of taking out a space station full of Cerberus troops she wanted more soldiers than what she currently had. Her team was good, but needed to be larger. It was time to get on to those messages she had sent.

Her inbox was full of all sorts of things, but she dug through it, searching for three specific messages. She located the one from Tali'Zorah first, opening it up with a smile of relief. She read through it and found her smile growing with pride.

Tali'Zorah vas Normandy had been made an _Admiral. _The young quarian she had first met while on her pilgrimage had turned into such a confident, capable and knowledgeable woman that her people had seen fit to grant her their highest title. While Shepard had been incarcerated on Earth Tali had been working toward peace between her people and the geth, as Admiral Anderson had informed her. In fact, she had just barely managed to head off a war by the skin of her teeth by convincing the other Admirals that the Reapers were a bigger threat. The Admirals still hadn't _completely_ come around, Tali told her, but they were getting there.

With the help of Legion, Tali had arranged a peace conference between her people's representatives and representatives of the geth to discuss at the very least a cessation of hostilities while the galaxy fought the Reapers. Tali said she would do her best to get them to work together but if they just agreed to stop fighting one another for the moment, she would be happy.

Although it meant both Tali and Legion would be unable to join her aboard the _Normandy_, Shepard was happy. It was a significant weight off her shoulders to know that her friends were okay. It also helped to know the geth and the quarians wouldn't be at each other's throats any time soon.

She located the next message quickly, noting the precise and elegant wording. Only Samara could make an electronic message _elegant. _The Justicar explained that her code demanded she assist in the fight against the Reapers in the place where it was most needed, and that was certainly at the vanguard of the offensive, aboard the _Normandy_. Shepard checked the galaxy map, confirmed that Illium wasn't too far out of their way, and responded to Samara asking her to meet them there.

They had a few hours until the _Normandy_ would hit the relay, so Shepard located the final message ahead of entering a change in course. This one was from Jack, and as filled with expletives and bad grammar as she would have expected. Jack had apparently joined the Alliance – Shepard's eyebrows rose at that – and taken up a position at Grissom Academy teaching biotic kids – Shepard's eyebrows almost flew off the top of her head at _that_. Jack told her that she 'loved the little freaks' but that she would happily leave them in the capable hands of the Academy's principal Kahlee Sanders if it meant she could rejoin Shepard and 'blow some more shit up'. Shepard blinked a couple of times, then sent her the same message she had sent to Samara, asking her to meet them on Illium.

Although she searched, she was unable to find any messages from Thane or Jacob. She hoped they were both all right.

Now that she had two strong biotics to add to her crew, Shepard could start to see her plan of attack take shape, at least in terms of her ground team. She entered the new course in on the galaxy map, then headed back up to her quarters to get to work on planning out a strategy.

* * *

A couple of hours later she had made a good start. The station was nothing special; a standard, mass-produced model seen around the galaxy in all kinds of different places performing all sorts of functions. It was an older version of the model, though, which presented some extra opportunities. The newer iterations all used eezo cores for power, while the older ones were still based on fusion reactors and consequently far less stable. This one had a fusion-based power core, which meant that if no other means of shutting down Cerberus' operations could be found, they could just overload the reactor.

It was both reassuring and disquieting to know this, because if she knew about it, so did Cerberus. She wouldn't be the slightest bit surprised if it had already been rigged as a failsafe, to be used in the event of an infiltration such as the one they were planning. Of course, that could play right into her hands if she could capture it.

The chime at her door sounded, and Shepard called out, "Come in."

Nathan stepped in, seeming almost on the verge of breaking into laughter. She stood up to meet him, giving him a curious look. "You have no idea what I just went through to get up here without being seen," he told her.

"What happened?" she asked, amused. She was happy to see him. As soon as he had entered the room, she found the stress from the past couple of hours of planning beginning to recede. On a whim she reached out and took his hand, feeling a little unsure about doing it. Their relationship – or whatever it was – was still so new, nothing had been defined yet, including their casual behaviour with one another.

To her delight, he smiled at her and gripped her hand tightly. "Well, the first time I tried to come up, I got on at the cargo bay and Donnelly got on at Engineering. He ended up going to the CIC, so I had to get off there too and try to pretend I had a reason for being there," Nathan explained, entwining his fingers with hers. His voice had a deep, resonating quality to it that she hadn't really noticed before. It sent pleasant little tingles down her spine. Between that and the way he was holding her hand, Shepard felt herself starting to relax.

He continued. "Then after Donnelly had left for the cockpit and I had spent sufficient time faking my way through getting a report off one of the crew stations, I tried to come the rest of the way up. But Traynor followed me into the elevator, so I had to go to the crew deck instead. It was much easier to think of a reason for being _there_. I just grabbed some food, hopped back on the elevator, and finally made it." He held up a ration bar, then stuffed it back into his pocket.

She couldn't help laughing. "That took a lot of effort."

He grinned, reaching a hand out and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. It was such a normal, affectionate thing to do. She loved it. "Totally worth it," he said. He leaned down and kissed her.

She let her free hand rest on his stomach and melted into him, listening to the hum of the fish tank and the soft tones of the music she was playing as her lips moved against his.

"So, did you come up here just to visit me, then?" she asked softly when the kiss ended.

He shrugged a little sheepishly. "Is that a bad thing?"

She smiled. "Of course not. I'm glad you came. But… I do have work to do," she told him regretfully.

He nodded. "For the assault on that recruitment station, right. I got the message from Miranda. How's that going?"

She turned away and paced a few steps. "Well enough. We'll be stopping at Illium first to pick up a couple more people and then we'll hit the place straight after that."

"More of your old team?"

"Yes. Jack and Samara are the strongest biotics I've ever known."

"Biotics, huh? I had a couple of biotics on my old squad. Dangerfield, although she was primarily a sniper, and Ngandu. Ngandu was such an asshole but he could throw one hell of a singularity."

Shepard listened, interested. She had never heard him talk about his old team before. It was easy to forget that before he came to be a part of her team, he had commanded his own squad. "Where are they all now?" she asked.

He shook his head, agitated. "I don't know. Last I heard, three months ago, they were stationed on Garnerus out in the Terminus Systems. My old XO Harris took over, so I know they're in good hands. If they were still on Garnerus when Earth was hit, they'll _probably_ be all right…" he trailed off, grimacing.

She went to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Do you want me to ask Hackett to find out?" she asked.

He blinked and looked up, startled. "Oh, shit, well yeah, I suppose you _could_ do that, couldn't you? I mean, shit, he just lent you a whole fleet, in terms of favours this would be small potatoes."

She felt her face warming a little. "He doesn't just do things because I askhim nicely," she protested.

Nathan grinned. "I know that, but you _do _have a direct line to the man and you _do _have the ability to ask him for favours no ordinary officer would be able to." He winked. "That's kind of cool. Besides, isn't he a friend of yours?"

Shepard grimaced. "Not really. I'd say we have a healthy respect for one another, but that's about it."

"Well, that's more than most people get from him. I haven't even spoken to the man." He leaned down and kissed her on the nose. "Sorry for teasing you. It would be great if you could find out if my old team is okay."

Shepard had the feeling that he was thinking of her as _cute _again. She wasn't sure what she thought about that. On one hand it was nice knowing that her lover had so much affection for her and wanted to look after her. But on the other, being thought of as cute often meant being thought of as needing protection, and she couldn't afford to have one of her marines jumping out of perfectly good cover to save her ass if she took a bullet in the field.

"Briggs…" she began, not sure how to broach the subject. In the end she decided to be direct. "There's another conversation we should have had this morning."

He stepped back, seeming to realise this would be serious. "Okay."

"We're going to be going out into the field a lot together. When we're out there, you can't be trying to take care of me. I need to be able to trust that you'll do the job I give you without hesitating, even if that's to stand back in cover while I run into a firefight. I need to know that out there you'll treat me like your CO, and nothing else."

He made a face. "I knew this would come up. Look, I've thought about it, and I know you're right. This won't work between us unless I can do that. I won't pretend to like it if you decide to charge into heavy melee with a gunship or something but you know what?" He gave her a lop-sided grin. "I know who you are. You're _Commander fucking Shepard_. No puny little gunship is going to take you down. I think… I _hope _I'll remember that when it happens."

She grinned at him. It _did _sounds as though he had thought about this. "If it helps, I've taken down at least three gunships on foot so far."

Nathan shook his head. "That is so hot."

Shepard laughed. "Get out of here, Lieutenant."

He tossed her a quick salute and winked. "Yes, ma'am."


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

Shepard stood behind Joker's chair on the bridge in full armour, helmet clamped to her thigh, peering out the viewport at the station ahead. They were cruising in close under full stealth, taking advantage of the lack of windows to get a closer look. The station was relatively small and its outer hull had clearly seen better days. It looked entirely unremarkable, but exactly as the schematics Traynor had found said it would look. It resembled a thick, four-storey disk.

"I don't like this, Commander," Joker grumbled as he swung the ship around the station's outer perimeter.

"Mm," she murmured pensively, peering at the station as if it would help her see through its hull.

She didn't like it either. She was getting a bad feeling about the place, but she couldn't put her finger on why. Perhaps it was the lack of any defensive craft? Although that actually made sense – an Alliance recruitment station wouldn't employ defensive craft. What bandit or slaver would look at a station full of Alliance troops as a tempting target? It would be a dead giveaway that something was up if a fleet suddenly parked itself in the station's orbit. Of course Cerberus wouldn't have a fleet guarding the place. But no ships at all? Something about it just seemed off.

"Life signs?" she asked.

As they moved in close to the station EDI had hacked into its internal monitoring system, putting her electronic warfare suite to good use. The AI's new mobile platform was sitting in one of the shuttles, ready to go, but she had more than enough processing power to also maintain a presence on the bridge. Her voice issued from the comm output. _"I am detecting multiple life signs, mostly centred on communal sleeping areas. It is currently 0100 hours station time. I believe most of the crew are asleep."_

"Give me a visual, EDI."

One of the screens at Joker's peripheral lit up with a schematic showing a number of red dots gathered in three separate rooms at one edge of the station. There were also red dots scattered at various other points, particularly in what they had identified as the command centre.

Shepard frowned as she studied the display. One slice of the station at the opposite edge to the crew quarters was filled with dots, but as she watched they flickered, fading in and out. "What are those?" she asked, indicating the cluster.

"_I cannot be certain,"_ EDI replied. _"But the pattern of these signatures indicates life forms similar to the Cerberus troops we encountered on Mars. I hypothesise that they are humans at various stages of being turned into husks."_

Shepard swore quietly to herself. Her guess had been correct. This was where the Illusive Man was creating his husked troops. _Damn._

On one hand, she had really hoped to be wrong about that. There was no way to reverse the husking process. She couldn't save these people… if they were still people at all. _Fuck. _On the other hand, though, finding and shutting down such an important Cerberus operation would be a huge win for the Alliance. Robbing Cerberus of a huge chunk of its forces meant removing a dangerous wildcard from the upcoming battle against the Reapers.

The sheer number of dots on the display meant that their plan of attack had just been chosen for them. She couldn't let any husked troops survive and she didn't have the numbers to go in and take them all out one by one. They'd have to destroy the station completely.

That meant one of her teams would need to evacuate the civilians, while the other took the command centre, disabled any remote overrides, and manually overloaded the power core. Fine; they had planned for this, just like they had planned for many different possibilities. They could do it.

"Bring us in for the drop-off, Joker. EDI, disable all intruder alarms and security systems on the station," Shepard ordered as she turned to head down to the shuttle bay. As she walked she tapped her in-ear comm. "Ground teams, this is Shepard. Listen up. There's an army of husked troops on the station, so we're going to blow the whole thing. Alpha team will head for the command centre and the core. Bravo will get approximately two dozen civilians out of their beds and into escape pods."

As she walked she nodded to Traynor, who had taken up Shepard's usual position at the galaxy map. "No comm activity yet, Commander," she reported. "I should be able to intercept any transmissions they try to make." The holo was currently displaying a map of the Sinerand system along with a multitude of technical readouts, which Traynor was studying intensely.

Shepard couldn't even begin to understand them. "Keep on it, Specialist," she replied, hopping into the elevator and hitting the button for the cargo bay. She switched back to her in-ear communicator. "Garrus, some of these civilians may not be so innocent. This is Cerberus, after all. I trust your judgement, but I want as many of them alive as possible. Their intel could be valuable."

"_Got it, Commander."_

She had placed Garrus in command of Bravo team, which consisted of Vega, Zaeed, Kasumi and the newly arrived Samara. Shepard herself would lead Alpha team, which included EDI, Jack, Miranda and Nathan. She was pleased she had managed to obtain such a balanced team overall, and one which split so nicely into two. Each team had technical and biotic specialists, as well as some muscle and pure firepower.

When the elevator reached the cargo bay the twin whines of both Kodiaks filled her ears as they waited for Joker's signal to disembark. She jogged out and grabbed her guns, mag-locking them into place on the back of her armour and at her hips. She carried her usual assault rifle, heavy pistol and sniper rifle but had also added her favourite missile launcher. It was well worth the few kilos of extra weight. It had served her well on Menae and you never knew what could be around the corner. As she hurried over to the shuttle to join her team, she sent a quick plea to the universe asking that no Reapers appear out of nowhere this time.

The shuttle ride over was uneventful, though she had to assume they would have been spotted as soon as they left the _Normandy's_ hangar bay despite EDI's attempts to override their electronic surveillance systems. There was only so much EDI could do. Standing behind Nathan in the pilot's seat she tapped her helmet comm. "Traynor, anything?"

"All quiet, ma'am."

Yeah, she had a bad feeling about this. Why wouldn't they be calling for help?

"Something wrong, Commander?" Nathan asked. He was doing a good job of keeping things professional so far, but his tone still displayed a hint of more personal concern. She couldn't begrudge him that.

She leaned on the back of the co-pilot's seat. "Maybe," she replied. "They should be calling for help right now, but they're not. Why?" She answered her own question. "Either they have no backup to call, or they're so well-equipped that they don't need it."

Nathan glanced up at her for a moment, taking his eyes away from the piloting interface. "Maybe they can't call out."

She frowned. That was another possibility. She shook her head as different ideas as to why that might be flitted through her mind. Whatever the reason was, though, she couldn't justify scrubbing the mission on such flimsy evidence. All she had was a bad feeling and a lack of comm chatter. If Nathan was right and they _couldn't _call for help, those civilians in there might be in need of rescuing. They had to go in.

Alpha team's shuttle swung into place at a docking point on the side of the station closest to the command centre. Through the viewport she barely caught a glimpse of Bravo's shuttle as Cortez flew it around to the other side of the station. She couldn't see the _Normandy_; Joker was under strict instructions to stay back, stealthed and watching the relay.

She slipped her helmet on, quickly double-checking the seals in a routine that was now becoming a ritual, as Nathan powered the shuttle down. They moved back into the passenger compartment to join the rest of the team and she gave a quick briefing. "You're on point with me when there's room, Briggs. Jack, Miranda, EDI, stay behind us. EDI, any questions before we go?"

This would be the first test of EDI's new mobile platform, or 'sexy robot body' as Joker liked to call it. Although she didn't require the extra armour or the modesty, EDI had dressed in one of Miranda's black jumpsuits, presumably to put the crew more at ease by trying to seem less overtly mechanical. The jumpsuit fit her well; the two were very similarly proportioned. She had decided to carry a sub-machine gun and a pistol, which was again similar to Miranda. Shepard wondered if EDI was trying to emulate the woman.

Shepard had gone over the mobile platform's specs and was pleased with the amount of armour and shielding the AI had managed to acquire. It wouldn't match up to hers or Briggs' but it was a big step up from Jack's. EDI had programmed in a nice little incinerate programme too. Shepard had to admit she was looking forward to having EDI try _that _out.

"No, Commander, I am fully prepared," EDI replied, sounding completely confident. Good.

Shepard turned her attention to the group's biotic specialist. "Jack? I know you're being thrown right into the thick of it."

Jack had changed since Shepard had last seen her six months ago. She had grown her hair out, or had extensions put in. She now had a top-knot of sorts, as well as a couple of new tattoos. She also dressed differently now that she didn't have to make do with whatever she could find. The outfit she had arrived in, a black leather jacket she had paired with a white tank, suited her well. Now, of course, she wore a borrowed set of light armour in Alliance blue, as did Miranda. Shepard had ordered full vacuum seals for this mission. She didn't want to take any chances.

"Shepard, please," Jack protested, voice sounding tinny through the helmet's speakers. "I fucking thrive on this shit."

"Fair enough," Shepard replied with a wry grin. "Briggs? Miranda?"

"Ready," Miranda replied, adjusting the straps to her armour yet again. To her credit, she only looked to be mildly uncomfortable in the unfamiliar hardsuit. She had also managed to completely refrain from antagonising Jack, which Shepard appreciated to no end.

"Good to go," Briggs confirmed. He appeared relatively comfortable compared to Miranda and Jack, but Shepard could tell he was keyed up with nerves and adrenaline, as he usually was before battle.

Her team was as ready as they would ever be. "Let's get this done, then." Without further preamble, Shepard drew her assault rifle and opened the hatch. Rifle up and ready, she stepped out into the outer foyer of the airlock.

The small space was empty. Hurrying over to the airlock door, she peered through the window. Also empty. She shoved it open and stepped inside. There would be just enough room for all five of them to cycle through at once.

The door to the station itself didn't have a window, which screamed ambush. Shepard started the pressurisation cycle running and indicated for Nathan to take the opposite side of the door while the others pressed themselves back against the walls. It was quiet while they waited, the only sounds being the soft hiss of her own breathing within her helmet and the whoosh of breathable air as it was pumped into the airlock.

"EDI, life signs?" she asked.

"None, Commander."

None? At such a perfect choke point? Her uneasiness was growing, although she was careful to keep it from showing. Something was _off _about this place, but her team could feel that themselves. They didn't need their commander getting freaked out too. "Be ready anyway," she said, voice cool and steady.

The cycle ended and with a mechanical click the wide airlock door swung open onto a dim, empty corridor. Shepard ducked out of cover to scan the area. The corridor was wide, with a ridged, non-slip deck overhung by gunmetal grey girders and ribbed with metal supports. There were plenty of places to hide, but no targets registered on her HUD.

She signalled her team to move forward, stifling the urge to try and reduce the sound of her footsteps. There was no need; Cerberus would know exactly where they had boarded.

"Creepy," Jack muttered in a quiet sing-song voice.

"'Creepy'? I do not understand the sentiment, Jack," EDI spoke up quietly. "There is nothing here. Is it not comforting to know that you are alone, except for your team, and there is therefore no possibility of a hostile confrontation?"

"That's not the point, EDI," Nathan replied as he made his way up the corridor on the opposite side to Shepard. "It's not about what you can see, it's about what you _can't _see. You never know what might be around the next corner."

"I can make a substantive assumption that if we do encounter hostile forces around the next corner, they will be comprised of Cerberus troopers. I should think that would obvious."

"You're forgetting one thing, EDI," Nathan told her sagely.

"I do not forget, Lieutenant Briggs."

Nathan ignored that. "You're forgetting one thing. What if…" he paused for effect, "they're _not_ Cerberus troops?"

"The probability of hostile forces being made up of Cerberus soldiers is ninety-four point—"

"EDI, you're missing the point," Jack took up the thread. Shepard couldn't see Miranda from her position on point but she was sure her XO's eyes would be rolling by now. "What if they're _something else? _Something we had no idea was here? Something hiding in the deep, dark recesses of—"

"Enough. Focus," Shepard interrupted. They were coming up on another door. A neat official-looking Alliance placard labelled it 'Recruit Processing'. According to the map on her omnitool, they would need to go through the processing area to reach an elevator which would take them directly up to the command centre. As much as Shepard would rather not be quite so obvious as coming in through the front door, she didn't have any choice. It was the only way to reach the command centre.

She pressed her back against the wall next to the door and signalled for EDI to hack the lock. Nathan mirrored her on the other side. She met his eyes for a moment, noticing a slight shiftiness. He was a little on edge, too, although he was hiding it well with banter. She nodded firmly, trying to convey reassurance and confidence. He grimaced, but seemed to steady himself a bit.

The door slid open and she crouched to make herself a smaller target, leaning around to take a look.

Nothing.

Again.

She moved slowly into the room, keeping low, rifle up, always staying near cover. The room was large and dimly lit to coincide with the station's night cycle. There were shadows everywhere, and plenty of places to hide; benches, desks, alcoves, stairwells. She motioned for her team to spread out and clear the room.

Again, as her targeting VI confirmed, they were the only ones there.

She straightened reluctantly, but kept her rifle ready against her chest. "Miranda, EDI, Nathan, see what you can find on these terminals. We need evidence of what Cerberus has been doing here," she ordered, voice sounding small and tinny to her ears in the large, empty room. "Jack, we're watching their backs. Stay left. I have the right."

This room was even creepier than the empty hallway had been. It was set up as she would expect a room dedicated to processing new recruits would be. There was a small waiting area filled with chairs, a public extranet terminal and a couple of vending machines, a marked queuing area, a bank of counters and a cluster of desks behind it. There were pleasant little aesthetic touches everywhere, including plants and artwork as well as the inevitable Alliance recruitment propaganda. But as she ranged through the room, Shepard spotted various unsettling things.

There was a baseball cap similar to Joker's sitting by itself on one of the seats in the waiting area, looking as though someone had set it down for a moment and would be back any second to pick it up. A jacket was slung haphazardly back over a chair a short distance away. A duffel bag lay by itself in front of one of the counters. A couple of the terminals were still switched on. A forgotten, cold mug of what smelled like coffee sat on one of the desks.

The area seemed so lived in, so functional and so comfortable. It only made her more uneasy. Recruits had come here expecting to be inducted into the Alliance, looking forward to doing their part for the galaxy against the Reapers. Instead they had been taken and turned into the very thing they were signing up to fight against.

"Commander, these terminals do not have the ability to access the central server," Miranda informed her over the comm. "The information we can gain from them is limited."

"Where can we find the central server?" Shepard asked, burying her feelings deep down as she scanned one of the open stairwells with both eyes and rifle.

"It will most likely be near the power core," Miranda surmised. "It will require a hard-wired connection to an uninterruptable power supply. However, there may be a remote connection in the command centre."

"All right. You three have two minutes to download what you can, then we're moving on." It was longer than she really wanted to stay here.

The three of them murmured quick acknowledgements, hard at work. When two minutes were up, they formed up once more before the elevator that would take them up to the command centre. It responded to her hail quickly, but when it opened Shepard couldn't suppress a grimace. It was _tiny. _They would be sitting ducks in there when they reached the command centre, and they already knew there would be hostiles up there. "EDI, are you sure there's no other way in?" she asked.

"I am certain, Commander," EDI replied.

Shepard sighed. "Well, we'll have to work with it then. Miranda, Jack, EDI, stay close behind Nathan and I. Take advantage of our stronger shields."

They all squeezed into the elevator, Shepard and Nathan flanking the door with Jack behind Shepard and the taller Miranda behind Nathan. EDI slipped in behind Miranda. Shepard reached out to get the elevator moving, already tossing around in her head various ideas for when they arrived at the command centre, most involving a generous spread of grenades. Before she could hit the button, though, Nathan abruptly raised his hand to stop her.

"Wait, I think I know a trick we could use," he said. "My old tech expert, Corporal Sporritt, taught me how to harmonise and overlap two sets of shields so each set automatically reinforced the other. It increased their combined strength threefold. It won't take me long to set up."

Shepard raised an eyebrow. That sounded like a neat trick, but she had never heard of it before. There had to be a reason for that. "What's the catch?" she asked.

"We'll need to stay within half a metre of one another," he replied.

_Ah. _"And if we don't?"

"Nothing too drastic. The harmonisation will break and we might get a bit of feedback."

She frowned. "A bit of feedback? How much is 'a bit'?"

"We might get a bit of a jolt, that's all. With armour on we won't feel much," he explained.

She nodded slowly. Definitely worth it. "Do it," she ordered.

Nathan spent a few moments typing on his omnitool, then hers chimed. "Run the program I just sent you," he instructed, moving over to stand by her side.

She did as he said, and when the innocuous little file of code had finished executing, her shields suddenly flared. Nathan's flickered in response, and the shield charge indicator on her HUD shot up to three hundred and twelve percent. She was impressed. "Nice job, Lieutenant," she said, smiling up at him. He grinned in response.

"Get a room," Jack muttered.

Shepard ignored her, tearing her eyes away from Nathan. She hit the button for the command centre and they began to rise.

* * *

_A/N: My posting schedule is starting to catch up to where I'm at with my draft, so you may find there will be a bit longer between updates for a while. I don't want to compromise quality for quantity. _


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

Nathan couldn't help throwing furtive glances in Shepard's direction as the elevator rose smoothly toward the command centre. Christ, he hoped his shield harmonisation trick would work.

No, he didn't need to hope, he told himself firmly. He _knew_ it would work. After all, he and Sporritt had tested it plenty of times before. They had rigged it on dummies and shot the hell out of it so many times he had lost count. The only thing they hadn't done is test it under live fire conditions. But surely nothing could go wrong that they hadn't already tested for. The gunfire would be coming from living, breathing Cerberus troops, sure, but it was still gunfire. They couldn't possibly fire in a way he and Sporritt hadn't anticipated.

Sneaking another glance at Shepard, Nathan saw her raise her Mattock and set it firmly against her shoulder, ready to sight and fire. The crimson N7 stripe on her right arm shone in sharp contrast to the blackness of her armour. No, nothing could possibly go wrong, even if they hadn't been able to test under live fire conditions. This was Commander Shepard, even if something _did _go wrong, she would get them out of it. Easy.

She noticed him staring this time, and cocked an eyebrow beneath her visor. Right, pay attention, they were about to reach the top floor. Nathan raised his own rifle and carefully angled his body out from the wall so he was providing Miranda and EDI with room behind the cover of his shields while staying close enough to Shepard to allow the shield harmonisation to work.

The elevator pinged and the doors slid open with a soft, pleasant _whoosh_.

A tortured roar and a chorus of low moans battered his ear drums. Nathan froze. His nose was assaulted with the stink of blood, corroded armour plating and something acrid and heavy that his helmet didn't quite filter out._ Reaper troops. _Standing not more than ten metres away. Right in front of him. With nothing between them and him but a shield that suddenly seemed very flimsy.

Ice trickled slowly down his spine. A dozen husks, at least half that number of marauders and a brute were all squeezed into the small space. As the elevator doors opened all spun to stare at the intruders.

_What the hell were Reaper troops doing here?_

His adrenaline surged as the marauders caught sight of the intruders and opened fire. The husks began to shamble towards them and the brute let out another ear-splitting roar. Nathan couldn't decide what to fire on first; desperately he tried to find some sort of equilibrium. "Ninety-four percent chance of Cerberus troops, huh, EDI?" The wisecrack tumbled from his lips haphazardly. His voice didn't sound nearly as steady as he wanted it to sound.

Jack had started firing reflexively, clearly surprised. "Fuck me," she breathed as the husks began to lope toward them in earnest.

Shepard's steady, confident voice cut through the fear that had gripped his mind. "Suppress, now," she ordered. Without hesitation she opened fire on the approaching husks.

The team jolted into action. Nathan followed her example and sprayed the husks with incendiary rounds, trying to aim for the closest ones. Miranda tossed a warp at the burning husks, setting off a chain of minor explosions that sent some of the husks spinning to the ground. Jack was on top of the rest, flinging some sort of biotic explosion at them that reminded Nathan of a stone skipping over water. Three or four of them were tossed into the air, limbs flailing, some landing amongst the marauders and knocking a couple of them off their feet as well.

"Briggs, Miranda, get those marauders' shields down," Shepard called over the loud cracks of gunfire, voice never wavering. "Jack, you're on husk duty. EDI, incinerate that brute, fire on the husks."

The marauders recovered quickly after the initial onslaught of tech and biotics, and the harmonised shields began to take a beating from the concentrated fire of all seven. They hissed and flickered wildly, but so far seemed to be holding. Shield strength fluctuated as the programme fought to keep up with spikes in damage, but it never dropped below fifty percent. Nathan breathed an internal sigh of relief.

He switched over to disruptor rounds then primed an overload and tossed it at one of the marauders, pleased when it both stunned the thing and completely knocked out its shields. Garrus' improvements had made a huge difference. Shepard finished the marauder off with an incendiary round straight through its eye. She appeared to be splitting her fire between the marauders and the brute, leaving the husks for Jack and EDI.

That brute was going to become a problem very soon. They only reason it hadn't charged them yet was the control panels and other furniture that stood between it and them, but it was slowly lumbering its way around the obstacles, approaching the point where it would be able to charge.

Shepard had clearly spotted it too. "Stay on your targets. I've got the brute."

Her voice was calm and confident, as if she was conducting a training exercise at the Alliance Academy on Earth on a nice, sunny day. Despite that, Nathan found himself having to forcibly tamp down on the worry that rose up at the thought of her taking on another giant armoured monster by herself.

He was being ridiculous, he told himself as he threw another overload at a marauder and fired on the next one with disruptor rounds. As its shields came down it caught the tail end of the warp Miranda threw at the first and both detonated, collapsing to their knees. He aimed carefully, trying to score headshots, and managed to at least catch both in the shoulder area.

Yeah, he was being ridiculous. This was exactly what they had talked about the other night. He _knew _Shepard could take down a brute on her own. He had watched her do it on Menae. So why was he so worried? It was silly. His overload was up; he tossed it at the next marauder while sneaking a quick glance at the brute. EDI's incinerates and Shepard's inferno grenades had slowed it down but it was closer than he had thought.

Shepard was on top of it. "Move!" she shouted, and they all darted out of the elevator and into the room itself.

Before he could go more than three steps, he felt a hard jolt of feedback course through his armour. His teeth rattled as he jerked, stumbling crookedly toward a nearby terminal housing. An ominous bang came from the shield generator on his back, shorting his shields out completely.

Holy fuck, they weren't supposed to do _that. _He slid in behind the terminal, back colliding with the housing as he half-fell, half-dropped into cover. He was already searching for Shepard. She would be on the other end of that feedback loop, out in the middle of the room with no cover and a brute about to charge her. _Shit!_

She wasn't in the middle of the room, but she had clearly been hit by the feedback. She was half-collapsed against the wall, legs shaking as she struggled to stay on her feet and twist around to face the brute. At this rate, though, there was no way she would be able to dodge it. Nathan caught his breath in horror as the heavily armoured creature lowered its shoulder and charged.

He immediately forgot about the marauders and started pouring fire into the brute instead. He managed to get off a few bursts before it slammed into Shepard, crushing her into the wall. An ear-piercing shriek came from her armour as the ceramic plating scraped along the metal wall and smashed against the armour plating of the brute itself. Her body slid down and disappeared behind its bulk.

_Fuck, no! _He started firing again, aiming for its slightly less armoured back. EDI was throwing incinerates at it now and adding her SMG fire to his while Miranda and Jack kept the remaining marauders off them. The brute roared in pain, bringing its arm back and unloading a massive punch in Shepard's general direction before finally falling to the deck, unmoving.

"Shit, Shepard's down!" He could see her now, slumped against the wall with her legs pinned by the dead brute. Her head was lolling forward. She wasn't moving.

"Get her!" Miranda demanded unnecessarily. He was already rushing over, heedless of the remaining marauders, heart firmly in his throat. Had that last punch hit her?

He dropped to his knees next to her and grasped her helmet in both hands, peering through the visor to find her eyes. He felt a wave of relief wash over him as he saw they were open, albeit slightly glazed over. "Shepard? Talk to me," he demanded. Her nose was bleeding profusely, which meant she had probably hit her head, but he saw recognition in her eyes as she blinked up at him.

"'A bit of a jolt,' Briggs?" she quoted him irritably, slurring her words only slightly. She shook her head as if trying to clear it.

"Jesus," Nathan swore, arms aching to hold her. "I had no idea that would happen. It's never happened before."

"Good to know." She groaned. "I feel like shit."

He quirked a tiny smile. She was okay. Thank all the gods and spirits in the universe, she was okay.

He glanced up as Jack came to stand behind him. "Hot damn, Briggs, that tech shit of yours did a hell of a number on her. Guess we don't need those fuckers," she jerked a thumb toward a pile of dead husks, "when you're around."

Nathan felt a surge of anger boil up from within. He glared at her, not sure if she was joking or not. Regardless, that was _not _fucking funny. Not even close. Shepard could have _died_. And it would have been his fault.

He looked back down at her, meeting her eyes. They were mostly back to normal now, the initial vagueness having faded, likely due to the wonders of medigel. She didn't seem pissed, which surprised him. He was fully expecting another dressing down, just like the one he got after Mars. Fuck knows he deserved it.

Instead she just offered him her hand. He took it, relishing the strong grip he got in return. He was beginning to understand that his feelings for her might run a lot deeper than physical attraction. "Help me up," she said with an obvious wince.

He shifted his grip on her hand and rose into a crouch, slipping an arm around beneath her shoulders to get some leverage and dragging her out from beneath the dead brute. He helped her scramble to her feet and kept a watchful hand on her elbow until she had regained her balance. She shook her head once more as if to free herself from lingering disorientation and he frowned. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked quietly. "That last punch…"

"I'm fine," she replied. "Hits like that are what the armour is for. I ducked and sucked down medigel like nobody's business." He nodded, feeling only marginally relieved, and she turned her attention to the now-empty command centre. Back to business. "EDI, the life-signs we saw in here weren't registering as husks. What happened?" she asked.

"I am not sure, Commander," EDI replied. "I have direct access to the station's onboard sensors but they are showing me readings that have just been proven false."

"Are you saying the sensors aren't working? Or that the readings are fabricated?" Shepard frowned. She sniffed, wrinkling her nose, but didn't pull her helmet off to wipe the blood away. She had ordered full vacuum seals for the mission. She seemed to be unwilling to rescind that order despite the air registering as safe to breathe. Clearly she didn't trust those readings.

"The sensors are working. I can only conclude that the readings are indeed fabricated. I am unable to locate the correct readings."

Miranda appeared taken aback. "EDI, they were able to trick you?"

"That is correct." The AI sounded as surprised as Miranda, who had turned pale, mouth set in a grim line.

"They must have planned for your presence. And that means they knew we were coming." Shepard sighed. "This was all just one big trap." Shepard switched to her comm. "Garrus, report."

A calm, quiet response came over their in-ear comm. "_Shepard? We're approaching the living quarters now. All quiet here."_

"It's a trap, Garrus. We just got ambushed by Reaper troops. Keep your eyes open."

There was silence for a moment while Garrus seemed to digest that. _"Reaper troops? Damn. All right, we'll keep our guard up. We'll check for civilians first then meet up with you. I have a feeling there won't be any, though, so we shouldn't be long."_

"No, check for civilians then get back to the shuttle," Shepard countermanded him. "We can handle blowing the place on our own."

"_Shepard, if it was a trap you know they're gunning for you personally. You need back-up or a diversion of some sort—"_

Shepard cut off his argument with a snapped, "That was an order, Garrus."

Nathan heard an audible sigh, and Garrus sounded less than pleased when he responded. "_All right, Commander. See you back on the _Normandy_."_

Nathan had to agree with Garrus. He knew part of that was that little kernel of fear for Shepard's safety that he didn't seem to be able to push down far enough, but part of it was practical, too. "He's got a point, Commander," he spoke up. "If there are more Reaper troops here they'll be coming for us – for you – now. Can't we get the hell out of here and destroy the station from the _Normandy _now that we know no civilians will be caught in the crossfire?"

She shot him a warning glance, but he set his jaw and ignored it. If Garrus could question orders so could he, dammit. He wasn't overstepping any bounds.

"The _Normandy_ doesn't have the firepower for that, Lieutenant," she replied. "We're staying." Nathan exchanged a glance with Miranda, who seemed about to argue too, but Shepard had already moved on. "We need information. Miranda, find out what the hell Reaper troops are doing here. Specifically, I want to know if Cerberus created them or if they were captured and brought in. If Cerberus have the capability to convert people into proper Reaper constructs they just moved a lot higher up the priority list in this war." Miranda nodded and got to work.

Shepard turned to EDI. "EDI, I want an accurate layout of this station along with the true sensor readings. They've got to be in there somewhere. I don't care if they knew you'd be here or not. Nobody is better than you at cyber-warfare."

"Yes, Commander," the AI replied. Nathan could have sworn she seemed a little more determined than she had previously, as if Shepard's pep talk had an effect on her. It was strange to realise that what was essentially a very powerful mech was so advanced that it – _she – _could possess feelings and emotions. But EDI did seem to experience both. It made her more… relatable. More like another species, rather than an artificial life form. Nathan found himself responding to her in the same way he was able to relate to, say, Garrus.

"Briggs," Shepard continued, "see if you can get that feedback issue fixed. We might need your little trick again."

Shit, she wanted to use it again? Even though it had backfired and almost gotten her killed? Nathan wasn't sure whether he should be proud or worried about that. "Aye aye, ma'am," he replied. Opening his omnitool he set to work. He had an idea of what might have caused the issue, if he could just tweak the code a little in certain places…

Shepard prowled the room restlessly for a few paces before opening a terminal herself. Jack hung over her shoulder. "What are you doing, Shepard?" she asked.

"Looking for something we can use," the commander muttered in reply.

She was quiet for a while, and Nathan was absorbed in his coding until he heard her swear. "What?" Jack demanded.

Nathan glanced up. Shepard hit something on the keypad and a hologram appeared. It showed a well-groomed man in a very expensive-looking business suit holding what was probably an equally expensive cigar and sporting a smug smirk. It had been reduced to two thirds life-size so it appeared he was standing on the terminal facing Shepard, but it hadn't been shrunk quite enough to prevent her having to look up at the man's face. Nathan had a feeling that might have been on purpose.

"Is that live?" Miranda demanded as she caught sight of it.

"No, it's a recording," Shepard growled. She folded her arms across her chest and glared at the hologram.

The man started to speak. "Shepard. I thought you might be interested in this little station. I'm glad to see you're still as predictable as ever. No doubt you're going to try and get to the power core so you can blow it up. You're always so quick to blow things up, Shepard. It's cute." He took a drag from his cigarette and Nathan saw Shepard exchange a knowing glance with Miranda. "I would caution you against trying that, however. You've no doubt already met some of my enhanced troops? There are quite a few of them between you and the power core. Oh, feel free to verify this. As soon as you accessed this message I lowered the firewalls surrounding the station's sensors. EDI should be able to access them now."

Shepard cast a sharp glance at the AI, who nodded. "He is correct, Commander." A terminal near Shepard lit up with a schematic of the station.

Nathan moved around so he could see it. He whistled under his breath. The businessman wasn't lying. The route between the command centre and the power core was covered in milling, flickering red dots. Cerberus' half-husked troops. Nathan snorted inwardly at the term the man in the hologram had used. _Enhanced, my ass._

Shepard raised an eyebrow at EDI expectantly, who seemed to grasp her meaning without her having to voice it. "I cannot be sure that this is genuine. I was certain the previous readings were correct, but I was proven wrong. However, I _am_ sure that the electronic signature of this readout is different to that one, which increases the likelihood that it is accurate."

Shepard paced a couple of restless steps, eyes on the screen. "Well, if it _is_ correct, at least Bravo team looks to be in the clear for now," she muttered.

The businessman was speaking again. The condescending tone he used grated on Nathan's nerves, but something kept him wary rather than dismissive. The intelligence behind those words seemed to indicate he might _actually_ be smarter than everyone in the room. "I know what you're thinking. You're thinking you can fight your way through them anyway. Maybe you can. You are _very _good, after all. But I doubt even you could do it without losing people. Do you really want to risk that when there is another option available?"

"Oh, I don't like the sound of that," Miranda murmured.

"Have another look at the sensor readings. While you've been fighting your way in here and we've been talking, my troops have taken over all other routes off the station. However, you'll notice I've left a single corridor open to you. Take the elevator back down, go through that corridor to the storage area at the end and lock yourselves in. There you can wait, nice and cosy, while I send one of my friends to pick you up."

Jack snorted. "Fuck that."

"My thoughts exactly," Shepard muttered.

Nathan frowned. The onslaught of Reaper troops they had just taken out had led him to believe Cerberus was in league with the Reapers and was trying to kill them. It was the logical assumption. But now it sounded like Cerberus wanted to capture them instead. The Reaper troops had to have just been a delaying tactic. There sure had been a lot of them for that, though.

"It's your choice, Shepard. Take the hard way out and get people killed… or make the sensible decision." The hologram of the businessman disappeared, leaving the room silent again.

Shepard sighed. "Love you too, Illusive Bastard. Right, we need options. EDI?"

"The route back to the shuttle appears to have been cut off," EDI began. "As have all remaining exits from the processing area below us."

"Except for the one Timmy wants us to take," Jack muttered, pacing.

"Timmy?" Nathan asked.

"TIM. 'The Illusive Man'," Jack expanded, making derisive air-quotes.

Nathan raised his eyebrows, sudden realisation dawning. _The Illusive Man. _Miranda and Kasumi had told him plenty about the shadowy, enigmatic leader of Cerberus during their history lesson. This was the man who had paid billions of credits to raise Shepard from the dead to fight the Collectors, then at the last second tried to convince her to hand their base over to him rather than destroy it. She had refused – which explained the reference he had made earlier about Shepard being keen on blowing things up.

It now made more sense why he was trying to capture them rather than kill them, too. He had paid a hell of a lot to resurrect Shepard; now he wanted his investment back. Nathan didn't like that idea at all.

"_How _cut off?" Shepard asked, moving over to the terminal that was currently displaying the sensor readout.

Miranda joined her. She began pointing out various corridors. "Other than the route to the power core, it looks like they've concentrated troops along routes that lead to any docking point, the shuttle bay, and the escape pods. It would be very difficult to fight our way through in any of those directions."

Shepard pointed to an area on the station's perimeter that seemed comparatively sparsely occupied. "What's in there?"

"That looks like… the crew mess and the armoury," Miranda squinted at the diagram. "I wonder why they've left the armoury so lightly guarded."

"Even if we were to obtain more weapons, even heavy weapons, it would be impossible to reach a sensitive enough area of the station from the armoury to be able to accomplish our original goal," EDI explained.

"I think it's time we rethought our original goal then," Shepard said grimly. She paused for a moment, frowning, peering at the readout, and then a slow smile began to spread across her face. "Or maybe we don't have to."

Nathan felt a tiny flicker of nerves. He knew that look. He had seen it right before she started telling him how they were going to jump from a twenty-storey balcony to the _Normandy_ with only a biotic to catch them.

Miranda eyed Shepard. "What are you planning, Shepard?" she asked warily.

"Have a little faith, XO." The look Shepard threw in Miranda's direction was positively gleeful, but she spoke to Nathan. "Briggs, you're pretty good with weapon mods. Do you think you could turn my missile launcher into a nice, big bomb?"

"Uh, yes," he replied cautiously. "I'm not sure how powerful it would be though."

"Will a room full of weapons help with that?" She raised her eyebrows.

He nodded slowly. "Yes. Yes it would."

Shepard grinned and keyed her comm over to the squad-wide channel. "Garrus, are you nearly out?"

"_Almost. I was right about there being no civilians in the living quarters. We're about halfway back to the shuttle now."_

"Good. Joker, come in."

"_Commander?"_

"We're going to need the _Normandy_ in a few minutes. We won't be able to make it back to our shuttle. EDI will give you the coordinates."

"_No problem, Commander. See you soon."_

Nathan stared at her, trying to figure out what she was planning. Whatever it was, it involved what would likely be a very big explosion. The Illusive Man was certainly right about that – Shepard did seem to like to blow things up.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

Shepard was hurting, but there was no way she was going to let on.

When that brute had slammed into her she had more felt than heard a sickening crack followed by a burst of blinding pain. In retrospect she was sure that had been the snap of her collarbone. She hadn't been exaggerating about the medi-gel she had used. Her suit had dispensed a standard dose on impact but she had topped it up manually once already since then. She knew she was walking a fine line between keeping her body going and keeping her mind functional; she was already starting to feel a bit disoriented. It wasn't quite at the point where it was affecting her judgement yet, but she knew she couldn't use any more of the stuff if she wanted to keep her wits about her. That meant she would have to endure a little pain.

Despite that, Shepard couldn't help a tiny thrill of anticipation as they all piled into the elevator once more and set it moving back down to the processing area. Sure, they had been in a dire situation a few moments ago, and her collarbone was hurting like hell, but now she had a plan. With some creative thinking and an explosion or two they would be back on the Normandy in no time, the station and its Cerberus infestation a ball of fire behind them.

They reached the processing area, which was thankfully still empty, and ranged out toward the exit leading to the armoury. They had a long route ahead of them, and the Illusive Man would surely have cameras watching their every move. He would realise very quickly that they weren't taking the route he wanted them to take and she had no doubts he would have planned for that. No point trying to hide it though; as soon as they started fighting their way through the inevitable resistance it would be reported. At least the corridors were similar to the first one they had entered on this station in that they were lined with convenient metal support girders, which would give them some very effective cover.

They ran into the first troops almost immediately, but it was only a token patrol force of four and they managed to get the jump on them. She and Nathan each took one out with their sniper rifles while Miranda and EDI quickly finished off the remaining two. The kickback from her Widow was harder on her shoulder than her assault rifle. It was painful, but for the moment it was bearable.

Shepard pulled the helmet off one of the Cerberus troopers to find a face that was still more human than husk. A young man, couldn't have been older than seventeen. Freshly converted. She narrowed her eyes. How could the Illusive Man possibly believe this was a good idea? How did this in any way advance humanity?

While she was staring at the face beneath the helmet, Jack let out a yell in warning as at least nine troopers rounded the corner. She tossed a shockwave while the rest of the team dove into cover. Shepard ducked quickly over to a girder, leaning out to keep an eye on the hostile soldiers. The rear squad had managed to scramble out of the way but the first group flew to either side of the corridor and slammed into the walls, their formation cleaved down the middle. "Miranda, two. EDI, ten," she ordered, assigning flanks rather than specific targets. She concentrated her own fire on EDI's targets. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Nathan and Jack focussing on Miranda's targets. Good.

At the rear of the squad she spotted a soldier dressed in a black uniform rather than the usual white and yellow Cerberus armour. He was well concealed behind the other troops, who were busy spraying suppressing fire in her team's direction. He wasn't firing, however; he seemed to be bent over some sort of electrical equipment. She couldn't tell what it was – it didn't match anything she had ever seen before and she had never had much of an affinity for tech – but it certainly didn't bode well.

"Briggs, twelve, what's he doing?" she called over the sound of gunfire, ducking slightly as a shot pinged off the girder she was using as cover. Out of the three techs on her team Nathan was probably the most weaponry-inclined. If it was some sort of weapon that black-clothed soldier was setting up, hopefully he would know.

"Looks like some sort of portable power generator, Commander," he replied after a couple of seconds of scrutiny from behind the scope of his rifle.

"Overload it," she instructed as images of the potential consequences of that generator powering up flickered through her mind. Weaponry, shields, whatever it was there to power, she didn't want to have to deal with it.

She took a couple of quick successive hits and her shields dropped below ten percent. She quickly ducked back behind cover to let them regenerate, keeping an eye on Nathan, who stood across the hall from her.

He leaned out to get line of sight on the generator with his omnitool and tossed out an overload. Shepard risked a quick glance despite her shields being up to only forty percent; she was rewarded with the sound of a muted bang followed by the sight of a thin plume of smoke issuing from the generator. The black-clothed trooper – combat engineer? – had nimbly ducked away and was hiding behind his comrades again, sans shields. He had been too close to the generator when Briggs' overload hit and had been caught in it too.

She smirked. He wouldn't be able to hide for long. The corridor they were in was nowhere near as wide as the first one they had seen, a couple of metres at most, which meant that despite the abundance of cover they were still packed in quite close. Luckily for them, Cerberus didn't appear to equip their soldiers with frag grenades. Unluckily for Cerberus, Alliance soldiers like Shepard always had a variety of different grenades on hand.

"Frag out," she called, priming one and tossing it underhand down the hall. She ignored the twinge in her collarbone as she raised her arm.

"Flamer out." Without being prompted, Nathan followed her frag grenade with one of his incendiary grenades.

She suppressed a quick smile. He was starting to learn how to work with her without her having to tell him what to do. It was… nice. For unit cohesion, of course. "Finish them off," she said unnecessarily as her team focussed fire on the weakened, burning troopers. When the final trooper fell with a gurgling moan she signalled the advance. As she jogged forward, she noted the engineer wasn't among the dead. _Dammit_. If he had orders to preserve his own life over his team that meant Cerberus considered his skills valuable, and it meant he would likely be a pain in her ass.

Ahead the corridor made a sharp ninety degree turn to the left, followed quickly by another to the right in a dog-leg pattern, according to the map EDI had downloaded. She signalled the halt and crouched before the corner, quickly peering around into the hall beyond.

A full squad of twelve lay in wait, alert and waiting, guns trained on the corner. Her lower height saved her as they spotted her and a barrage of rounds slammed into the metal wall, mostly over her head, and into her shields. A few rounds scored her armour when her shields dropped completely, but none penetrated the hard ceramic plating. She ducked back into cover to let them recharge.

"Twelve soldiers, two portable shields, two generators, a portable turret and two engineers," she reported. "I guess we know what those generators power now. They're dug in about ten metres away. EDI, rear guard. They'll try to outflank us from behind at some point and this is a pretty good time to do it. Jack, keep yourself between me and EDI."

As Jack and EDI shuffled positions, Shepard quickly considered their options. There was more cover on the other side of the hallway, perfect for Briggs and Miranda to catch the dug-in Cerberus troops in a cross-fire. With the turret out there, though, they wouldn't make it across. Briggs' shield harmonisation trick might be able to handle the turret on its own if she threw out a couple of flash-bangs to take care of the troops but not if he was paired with Miranda and her weaker shields. The corridor wasn't narrow enough to allow him to harmonise with Shepard herself and make it to the other side while still being in range, and she didn't want to go over with him and leave Jack and Miranda without the extra shielding.

Briefly she considered taking out her Widow and using its powerful armour-piercing rounds to destroy the turret, but she had to discard the idea. As soon as she leaned around the corner the combined fire from the turret and the troops would have her shields down before she could get a single shot off.

Wait.

"Briggs, did you fix the shielding program?" she asked.

He shook his head reluctantly. "Not completely, though it should deliver less feedback now if we move out of range."

"We won't be out of range. Send me the new version and power it up." Shepard clapped her collapsed assault rifle into place behind her right shoulder, grimacing at the twinge of pain in her collarbone as she lifted her arm up. She pulled out her sniper rifle as Nathan moved up behind her. Her omnitool beeped; she ran the new harmonisation programme and watched her shield indicator leap up to three hundred and forty percent. "On my go toss a couple of flash-bangs around the corner," she ordered. "I'll take out the turret. As soon as it's down, switch the programme off and you and Miranda get over to the other side."

"Aye aye, ma'am," he acknowledged, readying the grenades.

"Got it," Miranda added.

Shepard cocked her sniper rifle, confirming it was loaded and ready. "Go."

The two flash-bangs flew over her head, making metallic clanking noises as they bounced down the corridor. As soon as she heard their distinctive disorienting whine-_bangs_ she triggered an adrenaline rush, speeding her perception enough to make it seem as though she had all the time in the world. She swivelled around the corner, bracing herself on one knee, aiming and firing in one smooth motion. The Widow's strong kick against her shoulder sent a sharp pain through her collarbone, worse than the last time she had fired it. She winced through the extra adrenaline in her system, but her aim didn't falter. The turret's high velocity slugs slammed into her shields, sending the indicator plummeting sharply to below forty percent. She ignored it and the pain, hands flying over the rifle as she reloaded it and raised it to her shoulder again. The sharp focus of the adrenaline rush was beginning to wear off but the second shot should do it…

She grimaced at the pain as she fired, biting her lip to stop herself crying out, but the high-powered round impacted the turret dead-on. With a loud bang it exploded, staggering the engineer who had scurried over to try and fix it. Shepard triggered the collapse of her Widow and ducked back into cover, gritting her teeth as she reached over her shoulder to switch rifles. She badly wanted to rest the injury for a moment but there was no time.

The harmonisation dropped, delivering no feedback as Nathan manually shut it down. He darted out into the corridor in a half-crouch, shielding Miranda with his body and his personal shields as they ran. They made it in a matter of seconds, just as the disoriented troops began to recover. It was beautifully timed.

Shepard took advantage of the distraction Nathan and Miranda made, leaning around the corner behind her recharged shields and nailing one of the engineers in the side of the head. He collapsed in a tangle of limbs, lifeless.

Jack had moved up behind her into the spot Nathan had vacated. She leaned in over Shepard's head and suddenly two troopers were floating above the portable shields they had erected. Shepard burst them down quickly. Nathan and Miranda got to work, tossing out a pair of overloads which turned the two generators into overly large paperweights and took out the portable shields, then picking off targets of opportunity. Miranda chose her warp targets skilfully, always catching at least two soldiers with a single blast. None of the other troops were shielded, leaving Nathan to fall back on providing fire support and finishing off Miranda's targets. Shepard took on that role for Jack as the biotic pulled soldiers out from behind whatever cover they had managed to find now their shields were gone and dangled them helplessly in the air.

Most were down when Shepard finally spotted the second engineer trying to sneak away around the corner. The first engineer's shields had been taken out by the explosion of the turret, but this one was still fully shielded. She was _not _letting her get away to set up a new turret. "Briggs, overload!" she shouted quickly.

Almost before the words left her mouth, the engineer jerked as her shields dropped. In the space of a breath Shepard aimed, sighted and took her out with a clean headshot.

She glanced over at Nathan and found him already looking at her. She couldn't see his mouth beneath his helmet but his eyes were full of triumph. She could tell he was grinning as he winked at her. That had been so smoothly done… When she saw the satisfaction in his eyes it was like looking into a mirror. _Familiar… like a partner. _She grinned back.

Miranda and Jack had finished off the remaining soldiers while she and Nathan took out the engineer. Bodies in yellow and white armour now littered the deck. "Move up. EDI, report," Shepard ordered briskly as she began picking her way past them.

"_Clear, Shepard_," came the response from a short distance behind them.

"Keep up, but watch our six," she replied. She signalled Jack to move across the corridor while EDI stayed where she was, watching around the previous corner. "Garrus, report."

"_We're in the shuttle on our way back to the _Normandy_, Commander."_

"Good. See you soon," she replied. Garrus hadn't reported any enemy ships. That hopefully meant Traynor had been successful in intercepting any calls for reinforcements – if they had made any. She shook her head. Of course they had. The Illusive Man was arrogant, but he was unlikely to be overconfident enough _not _to have a few ships handy just in case.

By the time she reached him, Nathan was already taking a look around the next corner. With his enhanced shields he didn't have to worry quite so much about making himself a small target; a good thing, seeing as how he was too big for the crouching trick to work. When he crouched his head still came up to her chest.

He took a smattering of fire before pulling back into cover. "Six troopers, shielded. No engineers or turrets," he reported.

Easy, but time-consuming with six sets of shields to take out. And that meant…

"Shepard, eight troopers are approaching from the rear," EDI suddenly called.

A classic pincer move. She nodded to herself. "Shields, armour?" she asked, switching to comms so she didn't have to yell.

EDI followed suit. _"None."_

"Jack, go back and help her. Briggs, other side of the corridor," she ordered briskly, slipping in front of him and readying her Mattock, in position to provide covering fire. Speed would be essential here; Cerberus was trying to split them up. The quicker they could regroup, the better.

She noticed the questioning look he was giving her. Normally she would have been the one to take the risk and move across the corridor, but her collarbone was screaming at her whenever she raised her rifle. She didn't like her chances of pulling off a well-executed combat roll at the moment, should it be required. She tilted her head toward the other side of the corridor impatiently. _Get moving._

She switched over to disruptor rounds and leaned out, spraying the front rank of troopers with a barrage of covering fire. As she fired, Nathan darted across the open mouth of the corridor, shields sparking with multiple impacts.

Shepard could hear the sounds of EDI's SMG and Jack's shotgun behind her, as well as the rhythmic thuds of a shockwave. Miranda leaned out over her shoulder and overloaded the shields of the nearest trooper across the way; Shepard finished him off quickly and went to work on the next one back. Nathan's overload sparked against the girder hiding the soldier closest to Shepard. He raised his rifle and poured fire into the soldier. These troops were tougher than the previous ones; Nathan had to reload before Shepard spotted the yellow and white armoured form slumping to the ground next to the girder. She darted into the newly vacated cover, leaving the corner for Miranda.

Methodically they picked off each shielded soldier. Shepard was keeping a peripheral eye on her ammo; she didn't like how low it was getting, but these particular troops were damn hard to kill. Like centurions compared with legionnaires… if you wanted to get all ancient Rome about it. When they were finally down to the last centurion, she heard Jack start swearing over the comm.

"What is it, Jack?" Shepard asked, leaning out of cover to fire and keeping her voice level in an effort to get Jack to calm down.

"_They've got a fucking YMIR, Shepard! Or… something."_

Or something? Whatever it was, it was Cerberus' trump card. The cherry on top of their cake. The eyestalks on top of their pincer move… like a lobster… She made a face. _Keep that one to yourself, Shepard._

"Briggs, finish him off, then rear guard. Miranda, with me." She spun and ducked back around the corner, sprinting down the corridor to where EDI and Jack were holding the rear. Jack backed up to let Shepard get to the corner. She checked her shields were at full power then ducked her head around quickly.

A tall, bulky armoured mech took up most of the hallway, its head barely clearing the ceiling. She could see a pilot sitting behind heavy, tinted glass. Not an YMIR then; those mechs didn't need pilots. If she was going to keep to the Roman mythology theme, maybe she would call this an Atlas. It was practically big and powerful enough to hold the Earth on its shoulders. Wait… Atlas wasn't a Roman myth. He was Greek…

The pilot spotted her, the mech's arm raised and it fired a rocket straight at her. She spun back around the corner, shoving the others back and shielding them with her body. The rocket caught on the wall and exploded, showering them with shrapnel. With a low hum, her shields dropped.

Close. That was more than enough day-dreaming about ancient Earth mythology. She quickly checked her medigel output indicator to confirm another dose hadn't been administered. It hadn't. Inwardly she shook her head at her own distraction and turned her attention to the data her targeting VI had gathered from the Atlas. It showed strong shields and equally strong armour enveloping the thing. Both Miranda and EDI would need to—

"_Commander, more troops approaching," _Nathan called over the comm. "_Unshielded, unarmoured."_

Those troops had to be solely intended to keep them in the Atlas' sights. Dammit. "Jack, get back there and help him," she ordered. Then, to EDI and Miranda after a quick confirmation that her shields were fully recharged, "Cover me."

She barely waited for their acknowledgement before setting her teeth firmly and dashing out into the corridor in front of the mech. It was only a few steps to the other side but she had only just cleared the corner and its guns were already tracking her.

Oh fuck, this was going to hurt.

Mentally preparing herself, she dove and rolled sideways, heavy slugs scoring deep gashes in the deck plating behind her. She almost bit her tongue off as searing pain ripped across her collarbone and down her right arm. Clumsily throwing herself up against the waiting girder, she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, clenching her teeth and willing the throbbing to die down just enough for her to be able to raise her rifle. It was a miracle she hadn't dropped it. Her hand hovered over the pressure switch that would dispense her third dose of medigel, but she took it away quickly. Not yet. Two had been bad enough. Instead she administered a dose of mild painkillers. They wouldn't do much, having been rated to be used mid-battle and thus cause no drowsiness or loss of focus, but they would take the edge off.

It only took a couple of seconds for the pain to die down sufficiently, but it felt like a lifetime as the mech's high-calibre rounds impacted the girder behind her head. Finally she spun and lifted her Mattock, stifling a groan of pain as she raised her right arm. She fired a barrage of disruptor rounds into the mech's shields. Miranda and EDI had begun throwing overloads at it already. Soon its shields dropped enough for them to reach the armour plating beneath. The three of them made short work of the armour even though they had to periodically retreat further into cover to avoid incoming rockets. It was even quicker to take out its power core, causing an explosion that killed the pilot and silenced the bulky mech.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Shepard lowered her rifle and cradled it in her left arm while she tentatively lifted her right, testing its limits. She managed to raise it only about thirty degrees before her collarbone began to protest. She had a feeling that the support of her armour was the only thing enabling her to use the arm at all. It wouldn't be easy to hold the rifle – even if she swapped arms – but she definitely couldn't handle anymore kickback against her right shoulder. The pain there was getting bad enough that she would be risking blacking out. Her left arm wasn't as bad. Carefully she tucked the rifle in against her left shoulder.

Miranda was watching her with a penetrating stare. She raised an eyebrow, glancing at the rifle. Of course she had noticed, Miranda noticed everything. It was one reason she made such a brilliant XO. Reluctantly Shepard switched over to a private comm channel between the two of them. "Sprained something near my collarbone," she lied smoothly. She was certain the bone itself was fractured. At the least. "I'll be fine."

Miranda glared at her suspiciously. "You make sure you tell me if you're not, Shepard, or so help me…"

Shepard forced a lop-sided grin, realising belatedly that she wouldn't be able to see it behind her helmet. "Yes, mum," she replied. Miranda rolled her eyes and jogged back over to Nathan and Jack.

Her grin faded as soon as Miranda turned her back. Shepard followed, taking a deep breath and doing her best to ignore the now-constant pain. Just a little longer and they would be out of there.

* * *

Nathan snuck a surreptitious glance at the commander as they moved through the corridors. She was setting a cracking pace, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. There was something… stiff about the way she moved. She wasn't quiteas quick as she normally was. Even raising her rifle took a little longer than usual. And he was sure he had seen her actually _miss _a couple of times.

She sounded completely normal, though, as calm and decisive with her calls as always. Her eyes – the only part of her face he could see behind the visor of her helmet – betrayed nothing.

He was worried about her. As much as he tried not to be, tried to live up to the discussion they had in her quarters, he found that he couldn't just turn it off like a light switch. He cared about her, and that made him concerned about her welfare. The fact that she was his commanding officer didn't negate that. But he set his teeth firmly and focussed on his own targets, on his rifle and his omnitool, rather than Shepard. _She can look after herself, _he repeated like a mantra.

Finally, after carving through at least five more groups of troopers and three more attempting to flank them from behind, they reached the door to the armoury unscathed.

It was set into the wall at the end of the hall they were currently in, at the top of a T-junction. Shepard wasted no time in urging EDI to get to work on the lock while she signalled the others to fan out and watch the approaches. Nathan moved out along one of the halls, watching out of the corner of his eye as Miranda and Shepard had what appeared to be a heated conversation over a private comm channel. When Miranda walked away, Shepard's eyes looked positively guilty.

Something was definitely wrong. _She can look after herself._

It didn't take long for EDI to get through the lock. Nathan joined Shepard in flanking the door and was first through by virtue of his heavier shielding. He stepped in, scanning the small room with his rifle up and ready, quickly clearing the corners first. It was empty.

It appeared to be a pretty standard armoury; rifle racks, a modding bench, an armour store, lockers for smaller arms. Against the back wall sat a couple of larger footlockers. Shepard caught his eye and jerked her head towards them. The heavy weapons would most likely be in there.

He made his way over and crouched beside one of the footlockers, setting to work hacking the lock. Before he was halfway done, Miranda raised her voice in warning. "Hostiles," she called from her position beside the door, opposite EDI.

As Shepard jogged over to take a look, Nathan studied the lock with a frown. It was a good lock, well-designed and not simple to hack. Given five minutes he would have it, but he doubted they had five minutes, and there were two locks. He primed his omniblade and gingerly stuck the tip into the footlocker at the precise place where the lock held the lid shut. He held it there carefully, watching as the circuitry began to heat up. It sparked a couple of times and the lock sprung open.

"_Inside and seal the door_," Shepard ordered over the comm. She, Miranda and EDI ducked back inside and EDI set to work on the door she had opened just moments ago, sealing it shut.

"More company?" Jack asked, prowling the room restlessly.

Nathan ignored her as best as he could, concentrating on the ordnance held within the footlocker. It was full of missiles: big, heavy ones. The kind found on starships, not on the backs of marines. Plenty of explosive material, but so far there was nothing there he could use as a trigger. He moved over to the other footlocker and set to work on it with his omniblade.

"We're surrounded, but they're not advancing yet," Shepard replied to Jack, pacing over to Nathan's side of the room. "They still want us alive, I think."

"Why?" Jack demanded. Tiny agitated flickers of biotic energy played down her arms and over her shoulders, highlighting the blue of the borrowed Alliance hardsuit.

Nathan pulled the lid off the second footlocker to find it full of mines. He grumbled under his breath. Not particularly what he had wanted to see, but they could be useful. It depended on what Shepard wanted to do with this bomb.

"That's a good thing, Jack," Shepard replied soothingly. "They're not going to succeed. While they lie in wait out there it gives us more time to get out." Jack made a sceptical noise but seemed to calm down somewhat.

He took his chance to interrupt. "There's more than enough ordnance here to make a pretty big bomb, Commander," he reported. "But I need to know what you want me to do with it."

Shepard's eyes twinkled in the way he knew meant she was grinning behind her visor as she turned to study the bulkhead closest to the two of them, the one lining the external hull of the station. "You're going to blow a hole right through the hull, Briggs," she told him, slapping the bulkhead with her left hand. "Right here."

He blinked. "I'm… er… what…"

"You're going to blow a hole in the hull and we're all going to jump across to the _Normandy_. Can you do it?" she persisted.

"Uh… yes." He shook himself, forcing himself to take stock of his supplies. It sounded like the worst idea in the world, but he trusted her. It would work. "Yes, ma'am. Easily. In fact, the problem will be not getting ourselves blown up as well. This locker here is full of landmines, which would be great if we could find some way to direct their explosions at the hull, but I don't see one that I could rig in the time we have. Instead they're just going to add a heap of uncontrolled energy to the blast."

Shepard crossed her arms over her chest and studied him thoughtfully. "Can you compensate for that?"

Nathan paused and took the time to _think. Really_ think about it. He ran some calculations in his head, studied the hull with his omnitool and quickly inventoried the contents of the armoury. He was surprised to find that when he returned his gaze to Shepard she wasn't glaring at him. She didn't seem impatient at all.

She was looking at him like she trusted his judgement. He didn't know what he had possibly done to deserve that trust but hell if he wasn't going to try and live up to it. He quickly ran the calculations one more time, just to be sure. "Yes, Commander," he finally said. "I can rig something. It'll be messy, but if we build ourselves some fortifications from the lockers and tables in here and set up some biotic barriers we'll make it."

She directed a piercing stare at him for a couple of long seconds, then nodded. "Get to work."

He fought the sudden panic that tried to worm its way into his brain. She was trusting him with all of their lives. If he messed this up, if he hadn't thought it through well enough… "I'll need your missile launcher, ma'am," he said, reaching a hand out for it.

He was thrown for a moment as instead of handing it to him, she came over and turned around so he could take it from her back himself. He pulled it off the magnetic plating with a small frown. What was going on with her?

There was no time to dwell on it now, however. As EDI, Jack and Miranda got to work moving the room's furniture into one corner to create a fort of sorts and Shepard studied something intently on her omnitool, he began the simple but time-consuming work of linking the missiles together via his own omnitool and connecting the whole thing up to the trigger mechanism from Shepard's missile launcher.

As he worked, Shepard spoke with EDI. "EDI, can you adjust Nathan's shielding program to work with all of our shields at once? Here, download it from my omnitool."

A couple of seconds passed before EDI replied, "Yes, Commander, I can. However, the program is not designed to withstand a single large burst of energy. It will fall immediately after the initial explosion, and it will not be as proportionally effective as originally designed."

"What does that mean?"

"When yours and Lieutenant Briggs' shields were combined you gained a collective increase of fifty seven percent shield strength over what you originally had. I calculate that the program will only increase the combined power of our five shield generators by twenty-eight percent."

"It's better than nothing. Do it."

And if the shielding would drop after one explosion, all these missiles needed to detonate at once, Nathan thought to himself. He ignored the trickle of sweat that ran down the side of his neck.

It took him another couple of minutes to finish the makeshift bomb. He checked his work, doing his best to force his brain to ignore the time pressure and be thorough. Finally he stood back away from the ugly contraption he had made. It wasn't anything special; all he had done was keep the missiles packed in their footlocker, surrounding and electronically connected to the trigger mechanism, and packed the whole thing up inside a vent. Then he propped the lid of the footlocker up and positioned it like an open mouth clamping down on the hull.

"Ready, Commander," he told her, backing away and eyeing it critically. It wasn't pretty, but it would do.

"Joker, come in," Shepard called over her comm as she beckoned him into their makeshift fort in the corner farthest away from the 'bomb'.

Nathan squeezed in. The barricade was tiny, barely fitting all five of them crouching close together. He shuffled his way to the edge of the group nearest to the barricade wall, armour scraping against Shepard's and Jack's as he squeezed in between them.

"_Here, Commander," _came Joker's reply. "_We've got a couple of Cerberus frigates sniffing around out here now, by the way."_

"How close are they? We're going to need you to swing by and pick us up in about sixty seconds."

"_Got it. Receiving your coordinates now… Shepard, that's inside the station, I can't—"_

"It won't be inside for very long, Joker. We're blowing the hull and jumping. Tell Samara to get herself a zero-g suit and be ready to assist from the airlock."

Joker's laugh echoed through the comm. "_Awesome. Aye aye, Commander, I'm ready when you are. You'll have to be quick though, we'll be a sitting duck for those frigates."_

"We will be." Shepard glanced at Miranda and Jack. "Barrier." The two biotics raised their arms and gestured, and a glowing blue barrier appeared over their heads. "Shields?" EDI cocked her head to the side and Nathan saw his shield indicator increase to five hundred and twenty nine percent. He whistled. Shepard locked eyes with him and gave him a curt nod. "Blow it."

He tapped a couple of keys, bringing up the program in his omnitool. He hesitated for a brief second, then hit the trigger.

* * *

_A/N: And that's 100k words. Wow, I never thought I'd get this far. Thank you to everyone who has been reading, reviewing, following and favouriting, I appreciate it so much. On to the next 100k!_


	25. Chapter 25

_A/N: Please suspend your knowledge of physics for this chapter. Thank you._

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

With a roar of explosive energy the bomb detonated. The barrier held fast but as EDI had predicted the shielding dropped abruptly, sending a mild jolt of feedback through Shepard's hardsuit. She tensed and ducked as metal shrieked and air began to rush past her ears, the sound battling with her helmet's volume filters. She found herself suddenly clamped to Nathan's side as he tried to shield her from the worst of it. She felt a flash of annoyance at his overprotectiveness, but at the same time she also felt a rush of what she could only classify as _grudging_ affection.

Bits of metal plating from the walls along with other random debris whipped through the room and over their heads as it was all sucked out into the suddenly wide open vista of empty space beyond. Shepard engaged her boots' mag-locks, anchoring herself to the deck so she wouldn't be dragged out with it. Jack started to slide but Nathan grabbed her arm and held her still while she sorted out her own mag-locks. Shepard couldn't really blame her for being a bit slow with it; Jack could probably count the amount of times she had worn full armour on one hand.

She nudged Nathan with her elbow and he finally realised he was still holding her. He sheepishly let her go.

Their barricade had held initially but now the various lockers and benches that had made up the protective wall began to slide back away from them toward the gaping hole in the hull. Shepard studied the breach with narrowed eyes. It looked like a child had grabbed a chunk of hull plating in a fist and tore it clean away, leaving nasty jagged edges behind. Those edges looked sharp enough to tear through armour and they were tall enough to prevent easy climbing. They might be able to use the escaping air and resulting reduction in gravity to their advantage there, though, if they were quick about it.

She activated her comm. "Joker, where are you?" she called above the rushing wind.

"_Look out the window you just created, Commander!"_

As she watched, the _Normandy_ swung into view outside the breach. The outer airlock door slid open to reveal a fully vacuum-suited Samara standing ready, wreathed in biotic energy. She beckoned to them to jump.

They couldn't waste too much time if they wanted to use the escaping air to help them, not to mention avoid those prowling Cerberus frigates. Even with the air flow, it would be tricky. It would be a long, inaccurate jump followed by a zero gravity float just to get within range of Samara. "Jack, we'll need a boost to guide us over those edges."

Jack clapped her hands together, sending a wave of biotic energy flickering up her arms. "I got this, Shepard."

A loud crash shook the room, vibrating the deck beneath their feet. Jack ducked, and Shepard glanced sharply over at the door to the armoury to find a shallow dent now protruding from the metal. As she watched, there was another crash and the dent grew larger. Cerberus was trying to get in, and if they had any more of those oversized mechs it wouldn't take them long. "Let's go! EDI, you're first. Move it!"

The AI stepped forward, glancing at Jack, who nodded and braced herself in a wide, balanced stance. Without further preamble EDI took a running jump and released her mag-locks, launching herself up and over the jagged edge. She cleared it with a few inches to spare, aided by a biotic shield and a nudge from Jack. As soon as she was out, Jack let go, taking a deep breath and shaking out her limbs. Shepard cast her a questioning glance. She nodded firmly. She was up to this.

Outside Samara took over, gently but quickly enveloping EDI in a biotic field of her own and pulling her in to the airlock. Samara made it look elegant and effortless, but Shepard didn't spend too much time appreciating her work. Instead, she nodded to Miranda. "Go," she ordered. To her annoyance Miranda hesitated, giving her a worried look. Shepard knew she suspected the injury to her collarbone was worse than what she was claiming, she had said as much earlier, but now was not the time to talk about it. "Move, Lieutenant," she snapped.

Miranda acquiesced, taking a few steps before leaping out toward the breach. The room shook and the dent in the door became a tear, the jolt and the rush of extra air from within the station sending Miranda perilously close to the upper jagged edges of the breach. Jack surged a brilliant blue and let out a yelled curse, and Miranda's body twisted away just in time. She somersaulted through safely and into Samara's reach.

The sound of gunfire came from the hole in the door, prompting Shepard to grab Jack and pull her down out of the way as Nathan also moved to get out of line of sight. The gunfire wasn't aimed at them, however; the door was directly across from the breach and the gunfire was aiming straight at it. Cerberus was trying to cut off their escape route.

_I don't think so, _Shepard thought grimly_. _She grabbed the last frag grenade off her belt and primed it, tossing it through the tear in the door. She gave it a two-count then detonated it. As soon as she heard a muffled bang she slapped Nathan on the shoulder. The gunfire spattered to a halt. "Go, Briggs," she called to him over the roaring wind.

He hesitated, just like Miranda had. Had he figured it out too? She felt a flash of utter frustration. Why the hell couldn't the two of them just do as she said, _when _she said it? "_Now!" _she yelled, turning the full force of her glare on him.

He didn't look happy, but in the face of an angry CO his marine training won out. He stepped up before the breach and leaped as high as he could, which wasn't particularly high. Jack caught him, heaving him up and over the jagged edge. Shepard kept an eye on him as he floated out, unwieldy but doing a decent job of keeping his limbs away from danger. As he cleared the breach she let out a relieved breath.

Cerberus would recover any second now. "Time to go, Jack," she said, nudging the woman forward. The breach was wide, but not wide enough to comfortably fit two bodies past that edge at the same time. "You first. I'll be right behind you."

"How the fuck are you going to get over that shit without me?" Jack demanded.

"I won't. You'll turn around and grab me." And by then Cerberus would be firing on her rather than the very lightly-shielded Jack. "Ready?"

"Wait-"

"Go, Jack!"

The woman made a frustrated sound but detached her mag-locks and flew up and over the edge, covered by a sparking indigo corona. It wasn't quite as artful or smooth as Samara's version of the same move but it did the job.

Behind her, Shepard heard the sound of gunfire start up again. _Out of time. _She didn't wait for Jack to be fully clear. She judged the distance and took a running leap, trying to angle her body so she caught the flow of outward air. She floated up, the lower gravity and lack of biotic support to counteract the airflow sending her higher and faster than the others had gone. The upper edge of the breach was just as ragged as the lower, and its edges approached quickly. Shepard twisted her body, readying her good arm to fend them off if she had to.

Shots began pinging against her shields. Shepard spotted Jack in her peripheral vision, trying to reorient herself painfully slowly, as she floated out into empty space between the station and the _Normandy_. She was having significant trouble, flailing around ineffectually in the absence of gravity. She wasn't going to get the biotic field up in time—

Shepard saw a sharp piece of torn metal swinging in the escaping air as it twisted towards her. She flung out her arm and caught it before it could hit, the impact causing her to spin around. As her back oriented toward the sharp serrated edges of the breach she both felt and heard a screeching, scraping sound.

Alarms blared in her ears and red symbols lit up on her HUD. _Suit integrity compromised. Pressure 86%._

She felt her stomach drop out from under her as bile rose up in her throat and adrenaline flooded her veins. _No no no no… _She flung her arm around behind her, fumbling for the breach, fighting not to panic and losing as an avalanche of very unwelcome flashbacks invaded her mind.

_She floated away from the dying _Normandy_, eyes fixed on the last escape pod as it spiralled down toward Alchera. She took a deep breath, relieved that Joker would be okay. She would be too – it might take an hour or two but her armour was rated for this exact possibility and had about four hours of life in it…_

Her thoughts had trailed off right there as her next breath was a little more difficult to take. The one after that was harder still, the air thicker, and she realised she wouldn't have an hour or two after all. She would only have a few minutes and that would be it. She had fought it, fought to find the tear in her air hose, fought tooth and nail to take that next breath, but it hadn't been enough in the end. She had taken her final wheezing breath through cloudy eyes staring down at the starkly beautiful but empty icy vista of Alchera.

It would not happen again. Not again. Shots were impacting on her shields and then her armour but she barely noticed as she writhed, almost wrenching her good shoulder as she tried to find the tear.

_Emergency seals deployed. Suit integrity one hundred percent._

She froze at the calm blue text on her HUD, breath echoing harshly in her ears. She was floating up to the _Normandy _now, Jack's biotic shield surrounding her like a cocoon. She was out of reach of the gunfire. And her armour's emergency seals had worked as they were supposed to.

She took a deep, shaky, sweet breath. For a moment she had thought—

_It didn't happen. Get it together, Shepard. You're fine._

She closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing that beautiful clean air, the pain in her collarbone all but forgotten for the moment. She focussed on getting her racing pulse under control. The mission wasn't over yet. She couldn't lose it. Not yet.

She felt something knock her booted foot. Opening her eyes she saw that Nathan had a grip on her ankle and was pulling her in with the help of Jack and Samara's biotics. When she saw his familiar grey armour and felt his hand on her foot, she was ashamed to admit to herself that she was both mentally and physically exhausted and wanted nothing more than to collapse into his arms.

But she couldn't let on to the crew – Nathan especially – how close she had come to panicking. She reached out her good hand to Nathan and he took it, pulling her down to the deck below. She made sure she landed smoothly.

The four of them joined Miranda and EDI in the airlock and shut the outer hatch behind them. She immediately opened a comm channel to Joker as the decontamination cycle began to run. Time to blow this station to hell. Her voice shook a little, but she quickly corrected it. "Jo… Joker, think you can hit the core with the thanix through the breach?"

Joker's gleeful laugh came clearly through her helmet speakers. "_Hell yes, Commander. With a little assistance from Garrus and EDI."_

"I am performing targeting calculations now, Lieutenant Moreau," EDI advised.

"_Ready on the thanix," _came Garrus' confirmation from within the ship.

The ship tilted as Joker swung it around. Shepard used her grip on Nathan's hand for balance, realising belatedly that she hadn't let him go yet. She straightened, easing away from him and trying to stand up straight. Her knees promptly buckled.

He caught her just in time. "Shepard?"

"I'm fi— _Ah!_" she bit off an involuntary gasp as Nathan's grip unintentionally pulled on her collarbone. Her vision swam for a moment, but the adrenaline still running through her body dulled it somewhat. "I'm injured, but I'm fine for now," she told him in a forced, mostly steady voice. She nodded to the inner hatch as the decontamination cycle ended. "Help me to the cockpit."

"You do not look to be fine, Shepard," Samara commented mildly. Shepard tossed her a dirty look and ignored Nathan's dubious expression.

Nathan tried to do as she asked, but to her supreme annoyance her left leg gave out on her as soon as she tried to take a step. She looked down to find a bullet-sized hole in the armour covering her thigh. There was no blood; the suit's emergency seals had clamped down onto her skin. It had to have hit her around the same time as her suit had torn open, or else she would have seen more alarms.

"Get to the medbay, Shepard," Miranda told her, turning toward the cockpit herself. "You can't even stand. I'll take care of the station."

Nathan braced her as the deck shifted beneath their feet. She shook her head. No way. She wanted to watch the place blow. "Not yet. Cockpit first."

With a long-suffering sigh Miranda slipped an arm around her waist and helped Nathan half-carry her to the cockpit. Joker didn't look up, concentrating too hard on his flying, but he heard them enter. "Almost there…" he muttered for their benefit.

Shepard watched the station loom larger in the viewports as Joker brought the _Normandy_ in close enough to fire through the hole in the hull they had left behind. It was still venting atmosphere, though it had subsided somewhat in the time since they had left. A cloud of debris slowly expanded outward, marking Joker's target nicely.

"_Thanix is fully calibrated and ready to fire," _Garrus reported over the comm.

EDI had slid into the co-pilot's seat at Joker's right. "Targeting is optimal," she added.

Joker glanced over his shoulder at Shepard. He didn't need to wait for her order in this circumstance but he seemed to have decided to anyway. She smiled. "Fire," she ordered with relish.

He slammed his fist down on the firing control and the golden stream of molten metal lanced out from the bowels of the _Normandy_, tearing into the hole they had created in the station's hull and piercing through its inner bulkheads. Without the armoured hull to protect it, the thanix ripped through the station like it was made from tissue paper. A gout of flame exploded from the top of the disc, where the core was located, followed by secondary explosions at power routing stations in a web expanding outward from the core. Finally, as the _Normandy_ swung away out of range, the whole thing went up, taking the husks and remaining Cerberus troops with it.

"Get us out of here," she said, thoroughly satisfied.

"You got it, Commander." Joker evaded the two Cerberus frigates with practiced ease and headed for the relay.

Once they were through Shepard began to feel the adrenaline fade away, pain in her leg and her collarbone replacing it. She shifted her balance and almost toppled to the floor again. Miranda and Nathan caught her, the former giving her a piercing look. She sighed and gave in. "Okay. Medbay now."

* * *

Shepard woke feeling as though she had gone ten rounds with a krogan. She was exhausted, slightly fuzzy and a bit numb. She was propped up on a pillow on a bed in the medbay, hooked up to various monitors and an IV. She tried to weakly shuffle herself up higher against the raised back of the bed but stopped guiltily at a hand on her arm. Dr Chakwas gave her a stern look. "Don't try to move too much, Commander," she said. "You'll probably regret it."

Shepard knew better than to ignore that look. She subsided, falling back onto the pillow. "What happened, Doc?" she asked, taking note of the surgical dressings covering her collarbone and right shoulder area, and the lighter bandage on her left thigh. She was wearing a medical gown, too, meaning Chakwas had gone to the trouble of removing the shorts and tank she usually wore beneath her undersuit as well as the armour and undersuit itself. Damn, it had to have been pretty serious. The last thing she remembered was limping through the CIC with Nathan's arm supporting her.

"You passed out halfway to the medbay. Lieutenant Briggs carried you here." Shepard winced. He had _carried _her? Chakwas saw her reaction and gave her another stern glare. "You're very lucky he was there. If you had fallen… well. You should have come directly to me, Shepard. Your collarbone was broken badly and severely exacerbated by the recoil of your rifle. I had to go in and completely realign the bones. It was a difficult surgery."

Shepard's heart sank. They were heading to Palaven _now_. She couldn't be out of action. "How long will it take to heal?"

Chakwas sighed. "I've only just patched you up, Shepard. You marines will be the death of me. The bullet wound to your thigh was comparatively minor. I was able to dig the shrapnel out and patch you up nicely. You won't even have a scar. As for your collarbone, with your Cerberus modifcations and the bone-knitting serum I applied while I was repairing it you'll be ready to go in two days."

"And how long was I out for?"

"About four hours."

Shepard's sigh was one of relief as she did the math in her head. She would be ready in time for the rendezvous with the krogan and the turians. _Just. _"Thank you, Karin."

Dr Chakwas reached out and covered her hand with one of her own. Shepard met her eyes, surprised to find the doctor's usual exasperation replaced by concern. "Shepard… Lieutenant Briggs told me he had no idea you had been injured until it was time to jump over to the _Normandy_. Why didn't you let your team know you were hurt?"

Shepard looked down at her hand, covered as it was by Chakwas'. She fidgeted awkwardly. To be honest, she wasn't entirely sure why she had done that. "I couldn't," she finally replied. "They had enough to worry about. They rely on me to be strong."

Chakwas frowned and chided, "There's a difference between strength and bravado, Shepard. I know you know that." She did. She hadn't been trying to prove anything. The doctor peered at her intently. "Does this have anything to do with our Lieutenant Briggs?"

Shepard glanced sharply up at her. "Of course not," she protested immediately.

Chakwas saw right through her, of course. "I thought so. He's not like the rest of your team, is he? He's not quite as capable, and yet you insist on bringing him on ground missions. Oh, he got a medal somewhere, I know, but besides that he's really nothing special."

Shepard couldn't help the protest that welled up in her eyes, even if she managed to keep her mouth shut. Chakwas gave her a knowing look. Damn her, she had just said that to provoke a reaction, and she had gotten exactly what she wanted. "He doesn't have any special training and he's not the best in the galaxy at anything," Shepard told her grudgingly. "But he's a good soldier and he learns quickly."

"And you like him. A lot," Chakwas added gently. Shepard shifted uncomfortably, wincing as the seals on her bandages pulled her skin. "If I may ask, have you… done anything about that?"

Shepard hesitated, unsure if she should say anything or not. But this was Karin Chakwas, her good friend and one of the few people in the galaxy she could trust with anything and everything. Finally she nodded. "Yes."

"I see." Shepard was a hair's breadth away from getting defensive, but she stopped when she saw her old friend's concern fade into a pleased smile. "I'm glad. I think he will be good for you. As soon as you learn not to treat him like an idiot."

Now she did get defensive. "I wasn't—how do you figure I was doing that?" she demanded.

"You didn't tell anyone about your injury because you were trying to protect him, weren't you? You think he needs the invincible Commander Shepardat his side to be able to drag himself through a firefight."

The rebuke died on her lips. It hadn't been precisely like that, but… the assertion rang a little truer than she would like. She felt her cheeks warming. When Chakwas put it that way it sounded incredibly stupid. "He's never—I don't—"

"Mmhm. He's never thought of you that way, or at least, not like our Lieutenant Vega does. Oh, there was a certain amount of awe in his regard for you back when I first met him on the Citadel, but I haven't seen anything like that for a while now."

"Really?" She hadn't noticed that. She had been too distracted by the other, far more interesting looks he gave her.

Chakwas smiled gently and patted her hand. "Yes, really. When I see him look at you I see a healthy dose of respect, and a lot of affection. I don't see any of that old amazement, that '_holy-shit-she's-real' _look that I sometimes see on Vega. You need to start giving him the benefit of the doubt, even if he isn't quite the soldier you are yet. I believe he could have handled knowing you were hurt better than you think."

With one last pat of her hand the doctor returned to her desk and left her to her thoughts.

Shepard frowned to herself. Was Chakwas right? Had she been coddling Nathan? Treating him like he needed to be looked after? She frowned to herself. He _did _need to be looked after sometimes. He had almost managed to get his head blown off on Menae when he tried to run into a pack of husks without realising there were a couple of marauders lurking behind cover nearby. That had scared her. So had the moment when the beam from the Reaper destroyer had almost hit him. Both times she had had to save his ass.

Had she taken it a bit far since then, though? Had she kept trying to keep him from harm, kept _coddling _him, even when he would have been fine without her? Looking back on their discussion from the other night, was _she _the one who had been causing problems by trying to protect _him?_

Before she could work it out, the medbay door slid open and Miranda stepped in, followed by EDI. Miranda, who was once more immaculately attired in Alliance BDUs topped off with a neat regulation bun, looked from Shepard to the doctor and asked, "Can she have visitors?"

"Yes, she can," Shepard spoke up before the doctor could respond.

Chakwas cast her a mildly irritated glance. "For a few minutes only, please. Shepard, don't argue with me. You've just had surgery."

Shepard gave her a pained look. "Yes, ma'am," she replied. She beckoned Miranda and EDI over with her good hand and shifted her weight a bit, trying to get more comfortable. It didn't work very well and caused a painful pull on her surgical wound, wiping the smile off her face. All right, maybe Chakwas had a point.

"How are you feeling, Commander?" EDI asked, standing at the foot of her bed. Miranda folded her arms across her chest and shifted all her weight to one leg, eyeing Shepard with a reproachful glare.

"I'll live," she replied, ignoring Miranda. "What have you got for me?"

"The station was completely destroyed, Commander," Miranda reported, tones clipped and official despite her stance. "No survivors."

Shepard shook her head. _All those people turned into husks… _"Good. The Cerberus frigates?"

"Gone. They didn't follow us through the relay."

"Anything from the Illusive Man?"

"Nothing, though I can't imagine he was happy."

Shepard smiled and leaned her head back, closing her eyes. "That warms my heart. So, we're in the clear for now. EDI, anything interesting in the data?"

EDI didn't respond immediately, which had Shepard opening her eyes and paying closer attention. EDI wouldn't require processing time for something like this; she had to be waiting for input.

She was looking to Miranda for guidance. Miranda was the one who responded. "Your guess was right, Shepard. They had turned the station into a processing centre with the purpose of creating husked and various other types of upgraded troops. Recruits arrived there intending to join the Alliance military and were instead converted into those… things. But it gets worse."

Shepard let out a slow breath. "Of course it does."

EDI took over. "The station had also been converted into a research facility of sorts. Cerberus was investigating ways in which they could exert control over Reaper troops. The data revealed they had captured some and at least partially succeeded."

Shepard's heart sank. "The Reaper troops in the control room."

"Yes."

"You said 'captured'. So those troops weren't converted by Cerberus?"

"No. There is no indication that Cerberus is capable of fully converting a human or any other species into its husked form."

Shepard sighed. "Well, there had to be _some _good news in there. To what extent were the Reaper troops being controlled?"

"Inconclusive. However, it is unlikely the minutiae of their actions were being controlled, at least at the time we encountered them. To do so would require a constant comm connection to the station, which we know Cerberus did not possess."

"Wait, but that's _possible? _The Illusive Man could sit safely in a room somewhere and move Reaper troops around like he was playing a vid game?" Shepard felt her stomach tighten in horror. It was bad enough that Harbinger was capable of doing that, but the Illusive Man too?

"The data suggests it may be possible, yes," Miranda confirmed. "But the technology has not been fully realised. It appears to be feasible for a small number of troops – maybe four or five – before it loses effectiveness. Many other factors were not even tested, such as signal strength, distance, and the presence of Harbinger or another Reaper."

Shepard felt drained all of a sudden. These revelations meant that Cerberus was a much bigger threat than she had originally thought. The possibility of having to fight not one but _two _galaxy-wide battles left her feeling exhausted. She lay back against the pillow, staring at EDI, keeping her expression hard and neutral with a supreme force of effort.

"There is one more thing, Shepard," EDI added hesitantly.

"That can wait until she's had a chance to recover fully," Miranda interjected firmly, eyeing Shepard before giving EDI a warning look.

Shepard narrowed her eyes. "What is it?"

The exchange had caught Dr Chakwas' attention. "If Miranda says it can wait, it can wait, Commander," she added, moving over to usher the two of them out.

No way. "_Stop." _Her Commander voice didn't carry quite as much weight as it normally did, coming as it did from a medbay bed, but it still caused them all to stop short. "They can leave after they finish their report, Doctor. Lieutenant Lawson?"

Chakwas sighed and gave her a look that plainly chastised her for pulling rank while partially drug-addled and lying in the medbay, but for whatever reason she refrained from pulling out her CMO trump card. Miranda drew herself up to attention, pinning Shepard in place with her icy blue eyes. _You asked for it, _that stare said. Shepard returned both their stares without blinking.

"EDI also uncovered data from the Lazarus project that had been stored in the station's memory banks," Miranda began. "That data would not have been kept on site if it had not been utilised frequently."

"It appears to have been used to aid in the development of further enhancements and modifications to the human form," EDI continued. "A number of Cerberus troops have been fitted with similar cybernetics to yours."

"Okay," Shepard replied slowly. "That's not good, but it's not entirely unexpected."

EDI glanced at Miranda again. Miranda took up the thread. "A significant portion of the Lazarus project files were kept encrypted. This in itself is not surprising. A number of the techniques I used to rebuild you were _highly _classified. What _is _surprising is that EDI has so far been unable to break the encryption."

"They knew we were coming. They prepared in advance," Shepard said.

"But why would they need to encrypt files specifically to keep them from us if they know I already know what's in them?"

_Ah. _Shepard sighed. "Only if there was something in there you _didn't_ know about. Something they didn't want either of us to know." She felt like screaming in rage but squashed it ruthlessly. "All right. I'm going to need a full work-up, Doctor. I need you find out exactly what they don't want me to know."


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

Shepard slept fitfully, unable to find a comfortable position to lie in due to the ache in her collarbone. It was a dull ache, muted by the painkillers Dr Chakwas had given her, but whenever she lay in one position for too long it began throbbing. On top of that there were the regular bi-hourly checkups conducted by Chakwas and Second Lieutenant Brigham, a shy but skilled navigator's assistant who doubled as the night-shift medic. And of course, whenever she did manage to drift off, there were the nightmares.

She didn't recall any of them, but when she woke up she was always left with a feeling of darkness, suffocation and foreboding. Deep, resonating voices speaking of salvation and destruction. A baseball cap and a coat left carelessly on chairs in a waiting room. The sound of oxygen escaping a torn hose.

It was after one of these indistinct maelstroms of blackness and despair that she struggled awake, breathless and fighting panic, to find Nathan standing by her bedside. He was watching her grimly, holding tightly to one of her hands while his other gently smoothed the hair away from her forehead. It was only when the monitor beside her bed beeped that she realised she hadn't taken a breath in a while.

She breathed in deeply but raggedly, struggling for calm. Nathan stroked her hair quietly, waiting until she was once again breathing normally before speaking. "Bad dreams?" he asked.

His hands were warm and reassuring. She focussed on that, rather than how troubled he sounded. He had never seen her after one of her dreams before. She had never _wanted _him to have to see that. She was well aware how irrational that was now that they were… whatever they were… but it was true all the same. "Yeah. Bad dreams," she admitted reluctantly.

"Want to talk about it?"

The serious question sounded incongruous coming from teasing, wise-cracking Nathan Briggs but it was all the more sincere for it. Still… she really didn't want to talk about it. With him, or anyone. Chakwas had told her to stop treating him like he needed to be protected but this was different. It was private, something she felt she had to deal with on her own. She couldn't lay such a huge burden on him. She forced a weak smile. "No."

He glanced around. The medbay shutters were closed to the early morning crowd in the mess and Chakwas hadn't arrived for her shift yet, so they had some measure of privacy. He leaned down and planted his elbows on either side of her head, then pressed a gentle kiss to her dry lips. Touching his nose to hers he said, "You look like shit. You sure you don't want to talk about it?"

The touch of his nose was so intimate and affectionate, she almost spilled everything right there. Instead she gave him an amused smile. "Thanks, but still no."

"All right." He kissed her again, seemingly unoffended by her reticence. "Did you get any sleep?"

She sighed tiredly. "Not really. They've been checking on me every two hours." She couldn't bring herself to tell him about the pain, nor the revelation that Cerberus had done something to her as part of the Lazarus project that even Miranda didn't know about. Chakwas had run numerous tests, but so far nothing out of the ordinary had turned up.

He grimaced. "When will the doc let you out of here?"

"Later today I hope." She knew she was being short with him and she wasn't intending to be, but she was so _tired_.

He pulled back, sitting on the side of her bed and taking one of her hands again. "So," he began hesitantly, "why didn't you tell anyone you were hurt?"

She sighed again, closing her eyes, feeling them burn and her head throb. She had hoped to have a little longer before they had this conversation, and she had wanted to be far more recuperated than she was now. "I'm sorry," she said, dodging the question. "I should have said something."

"No kidding. Why didn't you?" he persisted, not to be so easily dodged.

She struggled with how to put her reasoning into words that wouldn't end up hurting him. "I know how this is going to sound coming after the conversation we had yesterday, but… I felt like I needed to protect you," she finally admitted with a bluntness born of exhaustion.

He frowned. "Really? Why? I don't understand."

"I didn't think you could handle knowing I was seriously hurt. I thought your performance would suffer enough to affect the team," she explained. "It was a command decision." That was… partially true. There had been elements of the personal in it too.

She expected him to get angry, to blow up at her or get frustrated and leave, but he didn't do any of that. Instead he sat back, taking his hand away from hers, frown deepening as understanding dawned. "I see." He planted his hands on his thighs, bracing his arms. His face fell in dejected realisation. "Shepard, I'm sorry," he said quietly.

It was her turn to frown in confusion. "Sorry for what? You don't have anything to be sorry for," she argued.

When he met her eyes it was with an intensity that caught her off guard. "Yes, I do. You wouldn't have been trying to protect me if you didn't think I needed protecting. I know I've given you plenty of reasons to think that I do."

_Oh_. He was blaming himself for the whole thing. She knew he was perceptive, she should have known he would have at least some peripheral knowledge of his own capabilities relative to the rest of the team and that he might feel a bit self-conscious about it. She hadn't realised it would have been eating at him quite so much, though. "Nathan, no. You don't—"

"You know that shield harmonisation trick?" he interrupted her, standing up, steeling his jaw and seemingly unconsciously shifting into parade rest as if he was reporting to her for a dressing down. He was slipping into the role of the rookie soldier again, and she thought it might be on purpose. As if he thought that was where he belonged. She had to crane her head to the side to see him. "It had never been field-tested. Not once," he admitted. "Sporritt and I set it up on a couple of dummies and shot a few rounds into it, but that's about all. It could have blown up in our faces back there. I should have told you that, but I didn't."

Shepard grimaced. If that was true, he was right, he damn well should have told her. But that didn't mean she wouldn't have still chosen to use it. "Okay. Yes, you should have told me. But I still would have—"

"And the shuttle on Mars," he interrupted her again. "That was a _really_ stupid idea. I—I almost killed you when it came down, it was lucky you managed to duck out of the way. And on Menae, you had to drag me around so I wouldn't get hit by that goddamn Reaper." He shook his head and met her eyes. The resignation in them made her heart fall. "You need to stop taking me on ground missions, Shepard. I think I'm more of a liability than an asset."

"Briggs," she said softly. She had to cut that train of thought off quickly. He was wrong, and she knew _that_ was entirely a leadership decision rather than a personal one. Chakwas was right; he was no expert, and he knew that very well. But that didn't make him useless, and it certainly didn't make him a liability. She beckoned to him. She wanted him out of that raw recruit mentality. "Come here, help me sit up."

He reluctantly did as she asked, raising the head of the bed and slipping an arm behind her back to help her shuffle upright. She stifled a wince as her surgical wound pulled and the bone beneath protested the movement, then sat back, trapping his arm and forcing him to either sit on the bed beside her or remain awkwardly stooped over. Despite his obvious unhappiness he still saw what she was doing and managed a small smile as he sat. He didn't put his arms around her properly, though, just left the arm behind her back where it was.

"Nathan, you are a good soldier," she told him firmly. "I'm not just telling you that to try and make you feel better. You are. You're not Vega, and you're not me, but you haven't been through what we've been through either. Until this war started you had never been in a situation where you had _no choice_ but to pull off the impossible. Vega has been there, and I seem to live there these days." She looked up at him intently. "We all do, now. Sooner or later you're going to start pulling off the impossible too. You are _not _some raw recruit just out of basic, comparatively or otherwise. You already have the ideas and the basic skills, you just need the judgement and presence of mind to go along with them."

He was silent for a moment, shifting to lean his chin gently on her un-bandaged shoulder from behind as he took in what she had said. She took that as a good sign. "Judgement and presence of mind. Those things are hard to come by," he muttered into her neck, his breath tickling her skin as he spoke. "I'll… do my best to find them."

"Good. And I'm still sorry," she added. "I _have _been coddling you, and I think it has been contributing to the problem. I won't do it anymore."

He looked up and there was a fierce light in his eyes when he met hers. "_That _I agree with. Unless it's going to get me or someone else killed, I need to be able to fuck things up. I need to own my mistakes and use them to get better. Better yet, let me the hell know when I did something wrong. _Teach_ me to do better."

She was surprised at the vehemence in his voice. She wanted to ask where it came from, but now was not the time. She nodded. "All right. I will."

He kissed the line of her jaw. "And you'll tell me if you're hurt."

She smiled. "Yes, sir."

He chuckled and a lazy grin spread across his face. There was her Nathan again. "Damn, I like the sound of that," he drawled.

She laughed, then winced and made a face as the muscles near her collarbone tensed. Okay, laughing was probably not the best idea right now. She leaned her head back against his shoulder and murmured, "Don't get used to it."

He chuckled, drawing his arms around her carefully, but tightly, and pulling her close.

* * *

Chakwas agreed to let her return to her quarters later that afternoon, provided she remain on strict bed rest. Of course, she took that to mean sitting up would be okay as long as she stayed in her quarters… which was likely what the doctor had intended for her to think in the first place. If she _really _wanted to enforce bed rest, Dr Chakwas knew quite well that the only way she could manage that would be to keep Shepard in the medbay.

It was a dance they had been performing for years now, and also one of the reasons Shepard refused to play chess against the doctor.

When she was released, Miranda was on hand to accompany her, having chosen just that moment to visit. Despite Shepard's protests, the taller woman kept a hand firmly on her elbow as she gingerly made her way from the medbay to the elevator and up to her quarters. When they arrived, the disapproving stare she directed Shepard's way was enough to guilt her into climbing into bed rather than taking a seat on the couch.

"How are you feeling?" Miranda asked briskly as she arranged the pillows efficiently behind Shepard's back.

"Better," Shepard replied honestly. The intensity of the painkillers she had been taking had been reduced and they were still doing their job. The surgical wound had already knitted itself shut, thanks to medigel and her Cerberus implants. Nathan's visit had relaxed her somewhat, and she had managed to sleep for a couple of hours after he left.

"I checked your scans. Your cybernetics are functioning as they should. I believe the doctor's estimate of your recovery time is accurate." Miranda turned Shepard's desk chair around and sat, crossing her legs neatly and folding her hands in her lap.

"Good. We can't afford to delay Palaven and I don't want to sit it out. I don't know if the Reapers will be able to eventually eliminate the weakness we found but I don't see any reason not to assume they'll try. We can't give them the time to do that."

"Agreed. Although, bear in mind that we do have evidence suggesting that even if they have the ability to eliminate the weakness, they may not do so. All our dealings with them in the past suggest they may be too arrogant to believe we will be able to successfully exploit it."

Shepard huffed dubiously. "I hope you're right. I don't like relying on that but we don't have much choice. We have that, secrecy and time. We need to get the drop on them for this to work."

Miranda shifted in her seat. "We clearly did not get the drop on Cerberus. Shepard… I apologise. It was my fault."

Shepard frowned. Too many people were apologising to her for things they didn't need to today. "How was it your fault?"

"The information came from my source. It was bad… again. I led us into a trap again. I'm… sorry."

"Miranda, we wouldn't even have known about the place if it wasn't for your information, and we did a lot of good there," Shepard argued. "How do you know your source betrayed you? They could easily have been fed the wrong information, or been discovered and broken by Cerberus _after _they had passed the intel to you in good faith."

Miranda was almost defiant in her desire to take responsibility. "That's unlikely."

"I disagree. Don't assume you messed up until you know you actually did," Shepard chided her. "Surely you have other sources in Cerberus who can find out what happened."

Miranda nodded reluctantly. "Yes. All right. I'll find out."

Shepard nodded, satisfied. She gingerly flexed her shoulders just a little, pleased when all she felt was a dull ache. "While you're there, see what else you can find out about what they're keeping from you in regards to the Lazarus project."

"I'm already on that," Miranda said decisively. "I've been in contact with Liara T'Soni. We're coordinating our efforts, but so far we haven't found anything."

Shepard grimaced, frustrated. The last thing she needed was to start getting paranoid about her own body again. She had felt this way after first being resurrected, walking around the Presidium, into the Council's inner sanctum and the human embassy and wondering if the Illusive Man was somewhere watching live playback from her ocular implants. Wondering if somehow she had been rigged with enough sensors and bugs to make her Cerberus' unwitting window into the Alliance. The only reason she had finally been able to put those fears behind her – aside from the numerous scans and tests she had had Dr Chakwas run – was the fact that there were plenty of much easier ways for Cerberus to get any information she could bring them. It also helped that the Illusive Man always seemed to know exactly what was going on before she even stumbled across it.

"Keep on it," she grumbled. "They wanted me alive. I want to know why, and I bet this has something to do with it."

Miranda nodded firmly. "Don't worry, Shepard, we'll figure this out."

"Thanks," Shepard replied, feeling a sudden pang of affection for the woman who in the most unlikely of circumstances had become one of her closest friends. She held out her hand, beckoning to her.

With a theatrical sigh and a roll of her eyes Miranda sat gingerly on the bed facing Shepard and took the hand she offered.

"Thank you for joining me again, Miranda," Shepard said sincerely.

Miranda snorted. "That's a bit sentimental for you, Shepard. I thought Chakwas took you _off _the hard drugs."

"Mostly." Shepard quirked a smile, but let it fade a moment later. "I'm serious, though." For some reason she felt like it was important Miranda knew how grateful she was to have her back and how glad she was to have her as a friend. She remembered letting Liara go without much more than a 'see you later' because she couldn't think of anything better to say at the time. If Miranda had to leave or the worst happened, she wanted to make sure she did a better job with her. "I don't know what I'd do if you hadn't agreed to come back on board."

"Well, you'd probably have had to make do with a sub-par XO. Although, you would have a much better chance at cleaning up at poker." Miranda sighed at Shepard's exasperated look. "Oh, all right. I'm glad to be here too. And… I suppose you're the best friend I've ever had and I'm grateful for that."

Shepard, knowing Miranda, realised just how much it took for her to say that. She smiled, squeezing her hand. Miranda would have fidgeted if she were anybody else. Shepard took pity on her. "Go on, XO. You've got better things to do than babysit me. Get back to work."

Miranda gave her a sardonic smile as she got to her feet. "Aye aye, ma'am."

* * *

Nathan stood outside Shepard's door, hesitating. It was approaching 2100 ship's time and she hadn't come down for dinner; no doubt she was working. He was still a bit taken aback by how much research and planning Shepard seemed to do before each mission. He hadn't done nearly as much for the missions he had conducted with his team, but then, he hadn't had anywhere near as much autonomy as she did. Nor was as much riding on their success. He had received pre-prepared comprehensive briefings on almost every deployment they undertook, whereas Shepard seemed often to be flying by the seat of her pants, the fate of millions resting on her success.

Regardless, she had been sequestered in her quarters ever since she had left the medbay earlier that day, and he hadn't seen her since that morning. He wanted to look in on her, see how she was doing. And all right, he had missed her too, so maybe his visit was _partially_ selfish. He hoped she was looking for a distraction.

He pressed the door chime and waited. It took her perhaps a little longer than usual to answer, but the door slid open at her verbal invitation.

She was pacing the sunken area of the room, datapad in hand, dressed in standard blue fatigues and a green shirt he had never seen before that hung loosely against the visible bandages covering her shoulder. It was strange seeing her in anything other than a military uniform, but he liked it. Of course, she could be wearing a sack and he would still think she was beautiful, so he wasn't sure he was the best judge of these things. "Hey Shepard," he said in greeting, heading for the steps. "Am I interrupting?"

She sighed, glancing up at him. The tension in her eyes was obvious. "Honestly, yes. But it's all right."

He stopped at her sharp response. Lines were creasing her forehead and the corners of her eyes. He noticed she was holding the datapad in her left hand, lightly but noticeably keeping her right clutched to her waist. All the pacing she had been doing had probably aggravated her injury. He didn't think she'd be too receptive if he started telling her she should sit down, though. Maybe he had misjudged his timing in coming to see her. "Don't worry about it. I'll go," he decided, moving to leave the room.

"Wait," she called quickly, and when he turned back she had set the datapad down and come over to meet him, brows drawn in apology. "Sorry. I didn't mean it to sound like that." She craned her head up for a kiss and immediately winced, raising her left hand to her bandaged shoulder.

He flinched in commiseration. "Christ, Shepard, I'll come down to you." He jogged down the stairs and ran careful palms over her neck and un-bandaged shoulder. "You all right?"

She made an exasperated noise, twitching under his hands. "I'm fine. I… forgot about it for a moment," she admitted. She did seem distracted, and not in a good way. They were approaching the rendezvous for the battle on Palaven, and would be there in under forty-eight hours. That probably had a lot to do with it. He wanted to do something to help, but wasn't really sure what.

In the absence of any useful ideas, he went with his first instinct, wrapping his arms around her waist, gathering her in close and lifting her off her feet so his eyes were level with hers. Her eyebrows flew up in surprise as she braced her arms on his. "Still good?" he asked. "Now you don't have to crane your neck so much."

She blinked as she dangled in his arms. "Still good, I think," she replied. A reluctant smile crept across her lips. "This is… convenient." She leaned forward and captured his lips with hers.

He breathed in, letting her scent fill his nose as he kissed her. It was still such a novelty being able to kiss her and touch her that he found himself wanting to spend a hell of a lot of time doing nothing but that. He knew she wouldn't be capable of anything more while still getting over her injury but he was a little surprised to realise it didn't bother him. There were so many other things they could do together. Even if all she felt able to do was sit and talk, he would love it.

Now _that _was substantially different to his previous relationships, if you could call them that. The longest time he had ever spent with one woman was the six months he had been part of a friends-with-benefits slash stress relief arrangement in basic. Anya had been a good friend, but the only thing he could think of that would have been worse than spending hours just kissingher was spending hours _talking _to her.

Now was not the time to be thinking about Anya though. He pushed her from his mind without a second thought, returning his attention to the woman in his arms. "Even better now?" he asked as they finally parted lips for a moment.

Shepard's laughter was music to his ears. "Yes, even better now," she replied. "Put me down."

He set her down gently, careful not to jostle her. "How's the planning going?"

She took a seat on the couch, putting some effort into keeping her posture straight as she sat back. "Good," she told him as he moved to join her. He sat beside her and picked up the datapad she had been holding, partly because he was curious and partly because if he had it she couldn't start stressing over it again. "I've gone over the plan so many times now that I can recite the exact distances between our drop point and each landmark on the way to our target." Her tone was a mixture of wry humour and sheer exhaustion.

He glanced at her, turning the datapad over in his hands but hesitant to unlock the screen. He was well aware sleeping with the Commander didn't give him the same security clearance as her. "So we have a target on Palaven now? Can you tell me anything?"

She nodded at the pad in his hands. "Have a look if you like."

"Really?" He stared at her in surprise. "Isn't this ultra high-level top secret or something?"

Her lip quirked with the hint of a grin. "You're getting briefed tomorrow morning anyway, along with the rest of the ground team. Go on."

He didn't have to be told twice. He keyed the pad on and lost himself in an intriguing new world of structured typing, neat drawings and careful hand-written notes entered into the document by haptic stylus. Shepard's ideal version of the upcoming battle on Palaven played out in his mind's eye as he read, followed by numerous different permutations of contingency plans. There was even a section of notes signed by Admiral Hackett himself. The contingency plans in particular were interesting; Shepard had included many highly unlikely scenarios, all fleshed out and fully accounted for. It made him wonder just how much of their escape from the recruitment station had been planned – at least in part – in advance.

"Shepard… you've got a plan here for what we would do if a Reaper took out a high-rise building while we were on the top floor. Do you always plan this… extensively?" he asked, curious.

She nodded thoughtfully. "I try to. If I have time. If the mission is as important as this one, I make the time."

"What about the mission to the recruitment station? Had you planned to blow a hole in its hull to get us out?"

She tossed him a wry smile that seemed part-grimace. "No. I hadn't."

He remembered the look on her face as he had pulled her in after she had jumped, after her suit had ruptured and the emergency seals had engaged. She had done a masterful job at keeping her distress hidden from the rest of the crew, but her wide eyes had betrayed her fear. She had clearly had a hell of a scare. He didn't blame her for being affected by it. How could she not be, after what she had told him about her death?

He leaned over and kissed her temple, then went back to reading.

After a while his head was swimming with the sheer magnitude of what they were about to try and do. Thousands of krogan with turian tech and biotic support, as well as the team from the _Normandy_, would be deployed at various key locations across the entire planet. In space the turian and human fleets would be baiting Reapers – _baiting Reapers – _in an attempt to get them to aim and fire in such a way that the thanix-equipped turian frigates and the _Normandy_ could take them out via the weakness in their weapons ports. It would be a huge battle, a multi-species event. He had never thought he would ever see something like this in his entire life.

He looked over at Shepard, who had switched on a holoscreen in front of her armour cabinet and stretched her legs out, feet on the low coffee table, watching what looked like ANN News. Her brow was drawn as the news anchor talked about cities that had been lost and related death tolls on Earth, but she didn't change the channel. She watched almost studiously, as if committing it to memory.

It dawned on him that she had gone straight from a difficult mission where she had been injured, to pain and recuperation in the medbay, to being confined to quarters on bed-rest with nothing to do but plan and worry. She hadn't had a break for over twenty-four hours. The closer he got to her, the more he began to understand about what it was like to be Commander Shepard. The weight on her shoulders was massive. A whole galaxy full of people were watching and depending on her. Were it him in her place, he wasn't sure he would be able to deal with it.

"This is going to be big," he muttered.

She didn't look away from the news broadcast. "Yeah," she agreed.

"We could die tomorrow."

She glanced sharply in his direction. "Nathan—"

Before she could start to try and make him feel better, like he knew she would, he cut her off, assuming a pseudo-solemn expression. "I don't want to die without having seen Volus Wars Five."

The protest froze on her lips as she blinked in confusion for a moment. Then she burst into laughter, expression morphing into a mixture of mirth and chagrined pain as her hand wavered near her injured shoulder. When she had stopped laughing enough to take a breath, she gave him an incredulous stare. "Volus Wars Five? Four wasn't bad enough for you? It had a talking pyjak!"

"I need to know if Bol Vendar survived the explosion at the stock exchange," he insisted. "Chila vas'Krevesh was right outside, she totally could have pulled him out."

"I don't think so," Shepard protested. "Matriarch Harana had that troop of elcor infiltrators on standby the next building over, they would have been able to stop her before she could get to him."

"No way, Shepard, they're elcor!" Nathan shook his head and gestured at the holoscreen. "Put it on. Let's find out."

They spent the next two hours laughing and groaning and shouting at the screen while Bol Vendar and Chila vas'Krevesh fought the evil Matriarch Harana and her mind-controlled hanar minions. There was no mention of Reapers, nor of Cerberus. When the ending finally rolled around – an improbable cliffhanger involving a human swimming instructor whose skills came in very handy, an asari accountant, Bol, Chila, a shuttle engineering plant and a set of mechanised wire clippers that ended up saving the day – Nathan was sitting with his legs stretched out along the long side of the corner couch, Shepard comfortably encircled in his arms. She was snuggled up against his side, angled so she could keep her upper body as straight and level as possible, but nevertheless the tension seemed to have almost entirely fled her body. He was kind of proud of his handiwork.

Her hair was improbably soft against his cheek. He leaned down to kiss her tenderly as the credits rolled, noting with satisfaction the happy gleam in her eyes. It was a marked difference from earlier.

"I can die fulfilled now," he commented with a lop-sided grin.

She rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to respond.

"_Commander, I apologise for the interruption," _came Specialist Traynor's voice over the bulkhead speaker.

_Seriously? _Nathan sighed inwardly as he felt Shepard tense up again. He rubbed her uninjured shoulder.

"What is it, Traynor?" she asked.

"_The Council have requested to speak with you via vid-com."_

Nathan glanced at Shepard, raising an eyebrow. It was approaching 2330 – very late for an official vid call.

"Give me five minutes then patch it through to my desk screen." Shepard threw him a resigned look and extricated herself from his embrace.

He got to his feet. If Shepard had to take a call from the Council, that was his cue to leave. He followed her up to her work area and waited while she slipped her BDU jacket on over the green shirt, favouring her shoulder only slightly. "Do you always get calls this late?" he asked as she fastened her buttons.

She made an irritated noise, fumbling with a button. "Sometimes. The Council is particularly notorious for it. They've woken me up at 0200 a couple of times. They probably just want a last minute briefing."

"Nice of them," he muttered, reaching out to tuck a particularly noticeable bit of green shirt back under her collar, fingers brushing regretfully against the skin of her neck. "I'll leave you to it then."

She took hold of his shirt front and pulled him down for a final kiss. When she moved back she held on for a moment, gazing fiercely into his eyes. "_No one _is going to die tomorrow," she told him firmly.

He had only really suggested it as a way to get her off-balance and set up the joke. But that didn't make it any less possible. He could only nod in reply. "Night, Shepard," he said, and left for his own bunk.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

The morning of the battle for Palaven Nathan woke earlier than he normally did. For a while he lay there in his bunk, groggy, wondering what had woken him, before he finally registered the muted beeping coming from his omnitool.

Rolling over, he snagged it from the small table next to his bunk and slipped it on. Around him, most of the day shift crew still slept, quiet snoring coming from a few of the bunks. He muted all sound on the omnitool and fired it up, seeing the message indicator before his sluggish brain caught up with what that, paired with the audio alert, meant.

He came wide awake with his fingers halfway through tapping in the command to open his inbox. He hadn't adjusted his omnitool's settings much since back in Vancouver. It was still set to play an audio warning only when a message was priority one, or if it met certain other conditions. There were only a couple of other conditions. Both involved his parents.

The alert could be referring to a message from his father, something that he dreaded and only flagged so he could compartmentalise and file it safely away, or… it could be bad news. Very bad news.

He lowered his hand, swallowing drily, mind casting back to his conversation with Garrus in the shuttle bay. He had thought at the time that he could only manage to grudgingly care about his mother's wellbeing and not at all about his father's, but now that he was faced with the prospect of their deaths in reality he found it wasn't quite so simple. And that feeling brought up a whole well of resentment.

Quickly he closed the interface, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. He couldn't deal with this right now. He was heading into the biggest battle of his life in a few hours, for fuck's sake. He stared out into the darkness of the crew quarters, mind paralysed with indecision, but even though it probably hadn't even hit 0400 yet he knew there was no way he would be getting back to sleep.

Dragging himself out of bed, barefoot and wearing only a set of loose cotton pants, he gathered his uniform and a towel and headed for the crew showers. Maybe a boiling hot shower would help. Sear his mind of the knowledge he had just gained, or something. He got all the way there and stood in front of the shower cubicle with the water running for a good two minutes before he realised it wasn't going to work.

He had an idea what might, though. He hurried over to the elevator and ducked inside, pressing the button for the loft and hoping no one would try and get on from the CIC. He was in no mood to mess around trying to keep his destination secret – and he doubted he could think of anything to explain the uniform and towel in his arms, anyway.

The elevator arrived at the anteroom to Shepard's quarters and he stepped out, pausing before the door. Suddenly he had second thoughts. Shit, it was early. _Really _early. Shepard was probably asleep. He was being selfish. But… his stomach tightened at the thought of the mystery message wallowing on his omnitool. He knew he was just putting off the inevitable but with the thought of that message and its possibilities in his head he reached out and pressed the door chime.

It took a while for her to answer. He paced a couple of steps, then shook his head. "Idiot," he muttered to himself, turning back toward the elevator. Before he could step in, however, the door slid open behind him. A sleepy, dishevelled Shepard stood there, dressed in the same clothes she had been wearing the night before.

"Nathan? What are you doing here?" she asked, thankfully sounding more worried than annoyed. She squinted and shaded her eyes from the light in the anteroom with one hand, eyeing the bundle in his arms.

He noticed where she was looking. Oh. He had forgotten he was carrying it. "Fuck, ignore this stuff, I was just… I was on my way…" he stopped, frustrated. "Ignore it. I needed to see you."

She stifled a yawn, rubbing her forehead. _There _was the annoyance he had been expecting. "Okay… but it's a bit early, isn't it?"

He had no answer for that – she was right, after all – so he ducked in past her, ignoring her look of surprise. Dumping his bundle on her desk chair he turned back and slung an arm around her waist, pulling her into a hard, messy kiss.

Shepard made a startled noise and pulled back, glaring at him. "What are you doing?" she demanded, wide awake now. "We hit the relay to Palaven in just over eight hours! This battle is not a joke, Nathan. We both need to be sleeping."

Immediately he felt like a complete asshole. What the hell was he thinking, shoving his way into her quarters and just grabbing her like that? She was right, they would be fighting a key battle in the war against the Reapers in a few hours, where she would be in command of the _entire_ ground team – which included him – and he had just woken her up at 0400. His own petty problems paled in comparison, but still… he wanted so much to bury his face in her neck, wrap her up in his arms and lose himself in her right now. No matter how selfish or badly timed it might be.

She must have seen some of that in his face; her own expression softened and she raised a hand to his cheek. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah. No. I… fuck." He knew full well he sounded like an idiot. He couldn't seem to get a single coherent sentence out, he had been thrown so badly.

Shepard sighed. She took his face in both her hands, gently running her thumbs over his cheeks, fingers skimming his hair. He closed his eyes, focussing on the paths her fingers took as she smoothed them over his forehead, his nose and the morning stubble covering his cheeks. Gradually he felt some of the tension in his body begin to recede. The touch of her lips against his was a surprise after the clumsy way he had tried to kiss her, but a welcome one. Her kiss was soothing and gentle where his had been sloppy and hard. When he opened his eyes he saw her watching him. His chest tightened.

It was too much. Too much emotion, all at once. He broke away and took a deep breath, squashing it down as hard as he could and giving her a forced smile. "I'm sorry for waking you up," he said ruefully.

"It's all right," she replied, letting him go and leaning back against the glass of her fish tank. "Tell me what's wrong."

He took a deep breath. "I received a message."

"What about?"

"I… don't know."

She raised an eyebrow. "You don't know? You're not making much sense, Nathan."

He made a frustrated noise. _Use your words, Briggs. _"I have an alert set on my omnitool to go off whenever certain parameters are met by an incoming message. It has to either be priority one, sent from my father, or a… notification regarding my parents."

Her brow furrowed as he spoke. "Ah. I can see why you're upset."

Nathan laughed. He couldn't help it. Just like Garrus, she had completely misunderstood. "I doubt that," he said, shaking his head.

"Explain it to me then," she persisted firmly.

He moved restlessly down to her couch, pacing around the room before taking a seat. He rested his elbows on his knees, picked a spot on the deck between his feet and focussed on it. Shepard followed, sitting on the coffee table in front of him. She waited far more patiently than he had a right to expect.

He took a moment to collect his thoughts, studying her small, pink toes without really seeing them. "I've never… gotten along with my parents," he finally began, but stopped again. He shook his head. "No. That doesn't cover it. I've never had the relationship with them that I saw my friends have with theirs. I've never experienced that mutual love and affection. I did love them once, but that… faded a long time ago. I'm not entirely sure when."

"Faded?" she repeated softly.

He continued, nodding slowly. "I don't think anything momentous happened… maybe my father just told me that I wasn't measuring up to his expectations… again. Or maybe it was when I brought a friend home from school one day and my mother fussed over him, treating him like a son. I think that was when I realised she was capable of it, even if she didn't do it with me. Or maybe—" He stopped, swallowing, cutting off the tidal wave of bitter memories threatening to spill over him. Christ, he hadn't meant to pour his heart out to her. They had been friends for months now but only seeing one another for a few _days_. It felt like too much information to heap onto a new relationship.

One more memory crept up before he managed to cut it off, however, and it spilled from his lips almost of its own accord. "Maybe it was the day my father sat me down and told me that he knew I wasn't _quite _good enough to get into the Alliance Academy but he had pulled strings and got me in anyway, and wasn't I grateful? He told me if I worked hard and did my absolute best at everything I might just be able to scrape by and avoid embarrassing him."

Shepard took his hands in hers and gripped them firmly. She didn't seem uncomfortable or shocked or repulsed at his hatred of his father like he had expected her to be. She was just… attentive. Even though he had just revealed to her that he hadn't actually qualified to be an Alliance soldier at all. _Good call, Briggs, great piece of information to pass on to your CO._

Nathan laughed bitterly. "In the end, that was the one good thing he did for me. Despite what he said, I learned to fight well enough and once I had enlisted, I was effectively out from under his thumb. He tried to reach me from time to time over the years, but I always just deleted his messages. I couldn't deal with it. I wanted a clean break, but he couldn't even do me the courtesy of giving me _that."_

"Nathan… I'm sorry. That's a horrible way to treat a child," Shepard told him, voice full of sorrow.

He winced at the idea of his skeletons laid bare, the emotions he had buried so far down, locked down so tight, exposed to the open air. He knew she was right. He knew that. But he had spent so long, all of his childhood really, trying to prove that he was worthy of his parents' love that he still felt ashamed that he had never been able to do that. Even if intellectually he knew they had made it an impossible task.

"So the message is either telling you your parents are dead, or it's from your father," Shepard murmured. "And you don't know which is better."

She was getting it. "And I can't just delete it, because what if it _is _a report of their deaths?" He snorted. "Just saying this out loud… I feel horrible. I don't _wish _them dead, but…" his voice dropped to little more than a whisper, "It would make things easier."

Her thumbs rubbed slow circles into the backs of his hands. "Is easier better?" she asked carefully.

He stared at her, watching the shadows the lamp made across her face, wanting to resent her for even suggesting that, but he couldn't. Her eyes were darker in the low light, but they still shone with compassion and a seemingly bottomless well of strength. If there was anyone who knew what it was like to face up to things that weren't easy but had to be done anyway, it was Commander Shepard. She wasn't telling him to look at the message, but she _was _telling him that it might be the right thing to do, for his own sake.

Damn. He needed to know. He let go of her hands and brought up his omnitool. Without allowing himself to think too much about it, he opened the message.

As he read, he felt his jaw grow tighter with every word. By the end of the message, he was shaking his head in disbelief and fighting off a mirthless laugh at the irony of it all. He looked up at Shepard, humanity's great hero, first human Spectre, Saviour of the Citadel, and smiled bitterly as a very unwelcome flash of resentment boiled in his chest. "He wants to meet you," he told her.

She blinked and sat back, confused at suddenly being personally brought into this. "What? Me? Why?"

He hated that he was suddenly feeling jealous of her. _Hated _it. "Why do you think, Shepard?" he demanded harshly before his brain could catch up with his mouth.

When she winced, he immediately regretted it. He grimaced, running a hand over his face. "Shit. I'm sorry," he apologised.

_Fuck_. This was the sort of thing his father brought out in him. He had _never _felt jealous of Shepard before, not ever. He still didn't, bar that momentary aberration. She _deserved _all the attention she got from the media and the general public, she really was _that good._ He knew he wasn't even close to her level of skill on the battlefield, and it bothered him, but only in the sense that he didn't want to feel like a dead weight to her or to the team. She had worked hard and gone through a hell of a lot to get where she was and he respected that.

But when his father started trying to get his claws into him, it was like he regressed back to childhood, where everyone was a rival and everything a competition. And he was never good enough.

"It's all right," Shepard replied, her tone implying that it really was. She understood he hadn't meant that. "So let me get this straight," she continued slowly. "Your father found out you were on board the _Normandy_ with me somehow—"

"That speech you gave in the docking bay on the Citadel? Someone recorded it and it ended up on the news," he explained. "He saw me there with you."

She nodded, taking the knowledge that someone had made a recording of her and plastered it all over the news in stride. "And the main focus of your father's message is to ask to meet me?"

Nathan smiled wryly. He supposed it did seem strange to someone on the outside, but he knew his father well. "Oh, it gets better," he told her. "He doesn't want to meet you because we're together. He doesn't know that. He just wants to be seen with you. I'm a convenient way to get to you, that's all. He's a General, you know. You'd technically have to salute him."

Shepard raised an eyebrow at that, looking supremely confused and a little repulsed. "Uh… okay. But does he even ask about you? At all?"

Nathan chuckled, and the bitterness rose up so fast that he could almost taste the bile in his mouth. "Of course. He devotes a whole sentence to it. He even deigns to let me know that my mother—" His chest grew suddenly tight. He cleared his throat. "My mother is alive. She's okay." His eyes stung. He wanted to scream in rage at the relief he felt at knowing that.

Suddenly Shepard was climbing into his lap, legs curled off to one side, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and holding him tightly. He pulled her in close and buried his face in her neck, fighting the conflicting emotions churning through his brain.

He loved his mother, goddammit, of course he did, despite what he told himself, despite the fact that she had never been willing or able to return the affection. The love for a parent just wasn't something that simply faded with time, no matter how much he might want that to be the case. He didn't want her to be hurt… or killed. And… he didn't want that for his father either, despite how angry it made him to realise that he still loved him too.

Shepard leaned back, forcing him to raise his head and meet her eyes. "Hey," she murmured, laying a palm against his cheek and gently running a thumb over his cheekbone. "Now you know. Your parents are alive. Your mother is well. That's a good thing, isn't it?"

Reluctantly he nodded. "It's good to know."

"You can deal with the rest later, then. I'll be here for you. Hell, I'll salute your father and call him 'sir' all he likes if it'll make him happy. I don't care." Her eyes twinkled at that.

Nathan felt his lips twitch with a wry smirk at the idea of Commander Shepard quite obviously humouring his father's pompous desires, but he shook his head. He would deal with this the same way he had dealt with everything else concerning his parents ever since he had enlisted twenty-odd years ago. "I probably won't reply," he told her, running a hand up the smooth slope of her back and holding her closer. She was warm and soft and just being able to hold her was comforting.

Shepard cocked her head to the side, resting her elbows comfortably on his shoulders. "Are you sure?" she asked. "Would it hurt to let your parents – let your mother – know that you're alive and well?"

He sighed. "No. But it would give him a way in. An opening." And it would open up a very badly-timed, inconvenient chink in the heavy emotional armour he had managed to build up over the years.

She studied him for a moment, a light frown creasing her brow, seemingly trying to work out what to tell him. Her job was to fix other people's problems; no doubt she was trying to work out how to fix his. He didn't want that, though. He had wanted… comfort. And he had gotten it, although not in the way he had originally intended.

He leaned forward slightly, just enough to brush the tip of his nose against hers. Her frown faded and she smiled, which brought out his own smile in return. In fact, he would go so far as to say that this sort of comfort had probably been more effective than the other way would have been. Much as it had been difficult to talk about it, he felt better now. If they had just had sex he would no doubt have woken up later and started stewing over it again.

"Come on," she said, sliding backwards off his lap and holding out a hand to him. He took it and she pulled him to his feet. "We both need more sleep. Stay here with me."

She slipped out of her fatigues, leaving her in just underwear and a shirt, and slid in under the blanket. He followed her, slipping an arm under her neck. She shifted closer and laid her head on his chest, encircling his waist with her arm.

He tightened his arms around her and leaned his head down to find her lips. It was a sweet, affectionate kiss. "Thank you, Shepard," he whispered as he laid back, relaxing against the pillows and letting his eyes drift closed to the steady sound of her breath.

* * *

Shepard woke up a few hours later to the sound of the low chime of her alarm. She flicked it off quickly, glancing at the still, warm figure beside her. Nathan had rolled away as they slept and was on his back, one arm thrown up over his head, face relaxed in sleep. She watched him for a moment, but he didn't move. The alarm hadn't woken him.

He looked so peaceful compared to how agitated he had been a few hours ago when he had turned up at her door. She had an urge to kiss him, but ignored it. He needed the sleep.

She carefully slipped out of bed and padded up to her terminal. There was still time before she had to be armoured up and ready. The _Normandy_ would rendezvous with the turian and human fleets in about three hours and the plan was to hit the relay in five. A pre-emptory trickle of adrenaline hit her veins at the thought of the battle ahead, but she let it pass. It was way too early, it wouldn't do her any good yet. Instead she brought up the list of reports that had been submitted to her overnight and began studiously reading.

She had just switched over to her inbox and spotted a new message from Tali, marked urgent, when she saw Nathan stirring. He rolled over and reached for her, making some sort of adorable grunting noise when he realised she wasn't there. She glanced at Tali's message then smiled to herself and returned to the bed, sliding in under his arm. She could check it later.

He opened his eyes and blinked sleepily. He looked endearingly disoriented. The urge to kiss him was back, and this time she gave in, gently pressing her lips to his. "Morning," she whispered.

His smile was blurry with sleep. "Morning. I could get used to waking up like this." He pulled his arm in tight around her back, hugging her close, then abruptly pulled back, frowning at her. "Your shoulder. You're lying on it. Are you okay?"

She hadn't even noticed. "It's fine." Rolling over onto her back, she lifted her right arm all the way up over her head, stretching. "Seems to be back in working order."

He leaned up on his elbow and ran his fingers across her collarbone from one shoulder to the other, leaving her skin tingling where he touched. "How about the collarbone?"

She found herself a little distracted by his fingers, and how close his bare chest now was to her lips. She could just shift a tiny bit forward and… "All fixed," she murmured vaguely, leaning forward to kiss the line of muscle she had been staring at. He made a noise of appreciation, slipping his free hand under her shirt. It didn't take long before they had both managed to wriggle out of their clothes.

Some time later, Shepard rested comfortably in his arms, her back against his chest as they basked in the afterglow together. Nathan was placing occasional kisses on her neck and shoulder, the casual affection sending little spirals of happiness through her heart.

She found herself marvelling at the improbability of it all. She had been surrounded by the most highly skilled, most capable – not to mention some of the most attractive – people in the galaxy for some time now and yet she found herself very attracted to a man who was comparatively just some random marine. Why was she so interested in him, above all the others? What was it about him that made half her brain decide to suddenly take a vacation when he looked at her a certain way?

She couldn't explain it. Somehow she just knew that she wanted to be with him.

He pressed a warm kiss to the side of her neck and she smiled, reaching back over her shoulder to bury her fingers in his hair. "Did you sleep all right?" she asked.

He kissed her again, fingers drawing intricate patterns on her belly. "Yeah. Thanks for letting me stay." His voice rumbled pleasantly in her ear. "You? Any nightmares?"

She shook her head, shifting to nestle a little closer. "No." She had been happy to wake up after a comfortable, completely uninterrupted few hours of sleep. She was sure that had something to do with his presence.

"Do you get those a lot?" he asked.

She made a face. She still didn't particularly want to talk about her nightmares with anyone, although she had to admit her resolve was starting to crumble a little with him. "Lately, yes," she admitted.

He was quiet for a little while before he finally spoke again. "I can tell you still don't want to talk about it." He sounded awkward, a bit unsure, but his arms protectively tightened around her as he spoke. "But you can, you know. If you change your mind."

She twisted her head enough that she could lean back and kiss him properly. _That _was one of the reasons she liked him so much. Despite who she was and despite who _he _was, he still wanted to protect her. But instead of allowing it to manifest as some overbearing, controlling but ultimately impotent emotion, he just let it simmer, allowing it to show itself in small, subtle ways. He wasn't very good at expressing his emotions through words, but he made up for that with his actions. It made her feel… safe, without feeling smothered.

It was nice to feel safe. It wasn't something she felt very often.

"What are you going to do about that message?" she asked.

He sighed. "I'll… reply, I guess. Something short and to the point."

She nodded, leaning back around to kiss him again, a wordless gesture of support.

After a little while longer she reluctantly glanced at the chrono. "Briefing in forty-five. You'd better get going if you want a shower first."

"Right," he muttered, tightening his arms around her for a moment.

She could feel the tension in his muscles before he let her go, but he said nothing as he got up and headed to the shower. She watched him go, a smile touching her lips as she admired the hard lines of his back and shoulders.

He was tense, though; she could tell even from the other side of the room. She supposed he had a lot weighing on his mind, what with the upcoming battle and his decision to reply to his father's message. Some tension would be useful for the fight ahead, it would keep him on his toes, but too much could be detrimental.

Well, that was as good an excuse as any. Grinning mischievously to herself, she waited for the water to start running, then slipped into the bathroom with him.

* * *

_A/N: Next time… Palaven._


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

The air of the ship was buzzing, humming with poised energy. The whine of the two Kodiak shuttle engines – one of which had been borrowed from another Alliance frigate after the _Normandy's_ second shuttle was lost in the explosion of the recruitment station – set a constant backdrop to the creaks of armour, snap-click of weaponry being checked and re-checked, and the low voices of the ground team and support crew gathered in the shuttle bay. Tension was thick in the air.

The only notable absence was Shepard herself, who was over on the turian dreadnought _Indomitable _participating in final mission briefings with Admiral Singh, Primarch Victus, Wrex and Akora. As soon as she returned, the _Normandy_ would enter the relay with the human and turian fleets and they would all be flung halfway across the galaxy to emerge over Palaven.

Nathan brushed aside the urge to go up to one of the cargo bays to find a window to stare out of. He had been watching from Port Observation with Kasumi, Zaeed and Garrus as the _Normandy_ arrived at the rendezvous; it was frustrating to now be so blind. The fleets had been a hell of an impressive sight. Combined together the turian and human fleets were enormous. Hundreds of ships now loomed around them in loose formation, the human ships of the Third Fleet integrating smoothly with their turian counterparts and watching over the myriad troop carriers holding thousands of krogan. Each human and turian ship held anywhere from dozens to hundreds of crew members and each krogan troop transport had packed in at least a hundred krogan. Every single one of them putting his or her life on the line in the hope of saving the turian homeworld and striking a heavy first blow against the Reapers.

He was itching to see that view again, but that desire was warring with a serious case of adrenaline-fuelled nerves. Those nerves told him to stay where the action was going to happen, lest he miss anything.

As he waited for Shepard to return and give the order to launch the mission, he restlessly paced the bow of the Kodiak he and his team would be riding in. He dodged around a milling group of turian sentinels and their infiltrator counterparts, all of whom were wearing full Hierarchy armour in dull blue and gunmetal grey with insignias stamped to well-worn rounded breastplates. Nathan was embarrassed to admit they all looked very much the same – he had difficulty telling turians apart sometimes – but he also noted that there were little hints of customisation if you looked hard enough: an extra marking here, a differently angled plate there, and of course the different clan markings lining their faces. Most of them appeared just as nervous as he felt, if not more so. It was their world, after all, and they would be working together to attempt to take it back. He imagined he would feel the same if it were Earth.

He almost ran into Vega as he ducked out of the way of a turian elbow. "Yo, _amigo," _Vega greeted him. The brick of a man was in full armour, guns locked in place, the same as Nathan. As Nathan saw him he fought off a flash of resentment. Vega would be on Alpha team with Shepard, whereas Nathan had been assigned to Bravo.

"Vega. Hey." His annoyance had nothing to do with Vega himself, nor did it have any grounding in rationality. He was pissed Shepard had left him off _her _squad. He knew she had organised the teams based on skill balance and what was required to take out each target – it had nothing to do with him _or_ their relationship – but he still couldn't help getting annoyed about it. Especially after the time they had spent together that morning.

"You doing okay there Briggs?" Vega asked.

Nathan made a frustrated noise, readjusting one of his shoulder plates with a muffled clank of ceramic on ceramic and using the pause to think up an excuse. "Just keyed up, man."

Vega nodded, cracking his neck. "I hear you. This waiting is killing me. What are they doing over there, anyway?"

"It's likely they're working out how best to keep our necks attached to our bodies, Lieutenant," Miranda interjected reproachfully.

Vega eyed her dubiously but responded with a quick, "Yes ma'am."

The big marine disliked having a civilian – and a former terrorist, at that – elevated to such a position of authority on the ship, Nathan knew. The only reason he treated her as the rank she had been bestowed with required was that Shepard had been the one to give her that rank, and it was obvious that Vega had a serious case of hero-worship when it came to Shepard. Nathan found that a bit exasperating, but didn't let himself get too bothered by it. He knew the feelings the big marine had for her were based more in respect than some unrequited crush.

Miranda was in full armour rather than her favoured jumpsuit, as was Jack and every other member of the ground team. Its breathable atmosphere aside, with Palaven's high levels of radiation they would get sick very quickly without the protection of their hardsuits. Miranda would be with Alpha team too, which meant Nathan would have to work without her familiar warps and overloads by his side. He glanced over at Jack and EDI, who would also be with Alpha. Jack was fidgeting in her suit while EDI seemed to be studying her curiously.

Zaeed was at the modding bench. Samara and Kasumi seemed to be deep in conversation, the Justicar effortlessly elegant in the unfamiliar armour. All three would be with Nathan and Garrus on Bravo team. According to the briefing Shepard had delivered, each team would be working with a small squad of turians and escorting a company of krogan.

Bravo team would be destroying a nest of huge, dragon-like constructs Shepard had called harvesters. Nathan still couldn't quite stop himself from snorting wryly at the idea that in addition to the assortment of monsters and horror-show creations the Reapers already had as part of their arsenal, they had also decided to create their own form of dragon. He wondered if that was an attempt at psychological warfare – against humans, at least. He wasn't sure if other species had an equivalent.

_Focus, Briggs. _There were plenty of things he could do to prepare that didn't involve daydreaming about mythical creatures. Pulling his pack off his back, Nathan unzipped it and nervously studied the explosives within, checking once more that they were secure in their protective housing. After his success with the makeshift bomb on the recruitment station Shepard had assigned him the task of ensuring the nest was completely incinerated. Damned if he would let her down.

After the briefing that morning he had spent some significant time researching the area, the ground and buildings the nest had been constructed in, as well as the types of explosives he would need. He had written a bunch of different types of trigger programmes, all of which could be activated from his omnitool. Finally he had worked out a few different variations on ways he could place the explosives to be sure of maximum coverage.

Feeling somewhat proud of his efforts he had reported in to Shepard in the CIC. She had scanned everything thoroughly before giving him a nod of approval. "Good," she had said. "Now go and work out what you're going to do when the layout turns out to be completely different, constructed from materials you hadn't anticipated and all your trigger programmes fail."

That had wiped the smile from his face pretty quick.

He had asked her to teach him, though, and he had the presence of mind to realise that was what she was trying to do. He had spent the next few hours working on his plans. When he brought the results of his work back to her she had been on the way from the crew deck to the war room, datapad in hand.

She had gone through everything thoroughly again, and this time she had given him a genuinely pleased smile. Waiting until they were safely out of view inside the elevator, she had grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him down to her, kissing him fervently. "I knew you could do it," she had whispered in his ear before letting him go and falling back into a nonchalant parade rest, a professional distance away from where he had stood with an embarrassingly goofy smile on his face. As they left the elevator she had seemed to take delight in adding, "Excellent work, Lieutenant. Carry on."

Now, he anxiously but carefully rifled through his pack again, for probably the fifth time that hour. He made sure he had everything he would need and that everything was packed in such a way that would enable him to find it without being able to see it. He couldn't immediately conceive of a situation where he wouldn't be able to see inside his pack but that didn't mean it couldn't happen. He had worked hard on his contingency planning – he had _earned _that kiss in the elevator, dammit.

"Atten-_tion_!"

Miranda's voice rang out above the noise of the shuttle bay, prompting all Alliance and Hierarchy personnel to snap to attention. Nathan set his bag down and straightened beside James, eyes going immediately to the elevator.

Shepard was stepping out into the shuttle bay. She was in full armour, guns set securely on her back and at her hip. Her blue eyes were glittering with a cold fire as she came to a stop near the terminals and looked out over her gathered crew. The military personnel waited silently, expectant, and the others seemed to sense there was a little more gravity to this situation than usual as well. Even Jack and Zaeed were paying close attention to Shepard as she gathered herself and panned her eyes across the shuttle bay.

When she spoke, it was with that voice he remembered her using in the docking bay back on the Citadel before Menae, firm and strong and laced with gravitas. The kind of voice that stirred pride and determination from somewhere deep within his soul.

"Two weeks ago, the Reapers emerged from dark space and launched an attack on the Batarian Hegemony. They struck fast and hard and murdered billions of innocent civilians, decimating the entire batarian race."

The shuttle bay had fallen completely silent as Shepard spoke. "Eleven days, six hours ago, the Reapers moved on to Earth and Palaven, intending to do the same thing to us. They caught us by surprise, and we took heavy losses. We've been on the back foot ever since."

She paused. "That stops now."

Nathan could see eyes watching from the observation windows above the shuttle bay, and recognised members of the ship's general crew who were not currently required to be at their stations. Shepard continued, voice rising as she spoke. "We are going to take Palaven _back_ from the Reapers. We have the troops and the ships and the technical knowledge to beat them. We have the best turian, human and krogan soldiers in the galaxy. Today, we begin to fight back!"

Nathan found himself letting out a cheer along with the rest of the gathered soldiers and crew. It was almost involuntary, but there was a fire brewing deep within his belly now. Shepard raised her voice to be heard over the sound of the cheering. "The survival of all the races of the galaxy could be decided by our actions today. Remember what you are fighting for! Go out there and give them hell!"

The crowd roared and Nathan found himself pulled right along with it, stoking that fire. He clapped and yelled and shook Vega's shoulder and was pounded on the back by one of the turian sentinels. Around him the ground crew was cheering and shaking hands while keeping one eye on Commander Shepard – and she had well and truly stepped into the role of _Commander Shepard,_ the legend and the hero, again – who was standing at a sturdy parade rest at the centre of it all and looking fiercely satisfied by the storm she had managed to whip up.

Catching sight of a crewman with a raised omnitool in the gallery above, for the first time he found himself fully understanding how she managed to gain so many civilian fans – people who had never seen firsthand her brilliance in battle. They had seen speeches like this.

As he watched she raised a finger to her ear, then lowered it and shouted, "We hit the relay in five minutes. Saddle up!"

Chattering excitedly, the _Normandy_ crew headed for the elevator, while the assault team began to filter onto their respective shuttles. Nathan hefted his pack and secured it firmly to his back between his assault and sniper rifles. He wanted to hang back and get a final – no, not final, it _would not _be final – goodbye kiss from Shepard, but knew it wouldn't be possible with the whole crew gathered like this. Instead he fidgeted with his pistol until most had boarded the shuttles, and tried to catch her eye.

When he finally managed it, the firm nod and smile she gave him as she walked to her shuttle was all Commander Shepard, but the look in her eyes was a crystal clear, _'You get your ass out of this alive Nathan Briggs or so help me god, I'll kill you myself.' _A bubble of nervous laughter tried to force its way out of his throat but he swallowed it down, settling for a cocky grin and giving her his own version of that look in return.

She winked at him and leaped up into her shuttle, closing the hatch behind her. The cocky grin fell from his face and his chest tightened.

She had damn well better make it back safe.

* * *

"Nice speech, Shepard," Miranda commented as Shepard boarded the shuttle, closing the hatch behind her.

As always, the wry undercurrent to Miranda's tone brought out Shepard's own dry humour and distracted her from the final – _no, not final, definitely not final – _image of Nathan's endearingly cocky grin that had seared itself into her mind. "Thanks, XO, glad you liked it," she replied.

Her comm pinged in her ear, followed closely by Joker's voice. "_Thirty seconds, Commander."_

Miranda was standing just outside the open cockpit door, peering at a vidscreen showing the view from the bridge of the _Normandy_. Shepard joined her, watching as the mass relay grew ever closer, pulsing with cold blue lights. The screen showed glimpses of the frigates, cruisers and drop ships surrounding the Normandy as they all sped toward the relay. Directly ahead was the Alliance cruiser _SSV Manchester, _surrounded by a group of four frigates. As she watched, the cruiser and the frigates put on a burst of speed, executed a smooth ninety degree turn and were caught and catapulted across space through a corridor of mass effect energy.

A moment later, the _Normandy_ and her own wolf pack of frigates followed, leading a dozen drop ships filled with krogan. Joker's voice counted down the approach in Shepard's in-ear comm, hitting zero as the viewscreen was filled with coruscating blues, whites and purples. A few moments later, the colours bled away, replaced by the void of space.

Shepard let out a slow, steadying breath. _Here we go. _The burning hulk of Palaven hung resolutely overhead, bleeding fire and already disgorging Reaper ships to meet them. The shuttle began to tilt as Joker swung the Normandy into the best evasive manoeuvres he could manage while still escorting the drop ships.

Trusting him to do his job, Shepard grabbed an overhead strap and turned to face her team. "Listen up," she began. "I know you've all been briefed separately but I want to make sure we're all on the same page before we get out there." She braced herself as the shuttle jerked suddenly. "Our job is to destroy the Hades cannons that are currently in control of the airspace over Cipritine. Conveniently for us, the Reapers have gathered all three of them together in one place. That's where we're going to hit.

"Not so conveniently for us, our intelligence from the surface tells us the area is swarming with elite Reaper troops – brutes and marauders along with some new types that we haven't had the pleasure of killing yet." She braced herself in a wide stance and keyed up a few images on her omnitool. They coalesced just above her wrist and rotated in place. "Ravagers are mobile artillery platforms. See those big sacs attached to their bodies? If we run into those, burst the sacs first to get to the vulnerable spots beneath and stay the hell in cover while you take them out."

Shepard felt gravity pulling her towards the opposite side of the compartment for a moment before the ship's inertial dampeners kicked in. She shifted her balance, riding it out, and flicked to the next image. "Banshees," she continued, "were once asari. They teleport around and toss balls of destructive biotic energy. Do _not _let them get close to you. They _will_ kill you instantly. Stay back and throw warps, reaves and the like at them. The more detonations the better. Thankfully there don't seem to be too many banshees out there compared to any of the other Reaper elites. Major Kyratis," she met the eyes of the leader of the turian contingent, "I want your team on any banshee that looks like it might be getting too close to us." The turian nodded in acknowledgement.

"We're going to be escorting two platoons of krogan, led by Urdnot Wrex. I use the term 'escorting' very loosely," she clarified wryly. "If you have ever fought beside a krogan before, you'll know that they need no escort. They do, however, require biotic, tech and sniper support. Vega, you and I will be primarily snipers for this mission, at least until we reach the buildings housing – or rather, overlooking – the Hades cannons themselves."

"Aye aye, ma'am," Vega responded crisply as the shuttled jolted to the side again. Shepard grabbed onto the overhead strap.

"Once we get to those buildings the main body of krogan will push on into the city, leaving a small force behind with Wrex to aid us in fighting our way to a vantage point from where we can get line of sight on the Hades cannons. We should only need a small team to get there. As you can see," Shepard twisted to the side, indicating the heavy weapon clamped to her back between her two rifles, "Vega and I are both carrying M-920 Cains. Wrex and three of his krogan will also have Cains. These Cains can only fire once, but they deliver an equivalent payload to that of a thanix cannon. There are three Hades cannons, but we'll only need one shot per cannon. Three shots, three backups. Then we get the hell out. That's it. Questions?"

"_Drop ships away," _came the dispassionate voice of one of Admiral Singh's comm officers through Shepard's in-ear comm. The shuttle jerked again, and this time she felt it move independently of the _Normandy_. They were heading down to the surface. Not much time left.

"Do we have any intel on Harbinger's whereabouts?" Miranda asked. "This seems like the sort of battle he might want to show up to."

Shepard nodded grimly as she reached for her helmet and expanded it. "It does, doesn't it? No, we have no intel on him, but Admiral Singh will be keeping an eye out."

She slipped the helmet on over her head and the rest of the team began following suit. It snapped into place and she heard the faint hiss of the vacuum seals as they engaged. She ran a gloved hand over the neck seal, then the newly-repaired thigh plating. It was as good as new, and her HUD showed suit integrity at one hundred percent, but still… She glanced at Miranda, who seemed to understand without her having to say anything. Efficiently but thoroughly Miranda stepped over and performed a manual suit integrity check for her.

When she was finished she gave Shepard a curt nod and indicated for her to return the favour. Shepard felt a rush of affection for her. If Shepard had been the only one insisting on a manual check, it would have looked strange, but if both of them did it, it was just procedure. When she was done, she gave Miranda the all-clear and received a long-suffering eye-roll in return. She smiled gratefully, knowing Miranda wouldn't be able to see it through the helmet but would still understand.

Shepard turned to grip the door frame so she could watch out of the shuttle's viewport, frowning in annoyance at herself. They weren't even going to be in vacuum, and she was still nervous about her suit seals failing. Intellectually she knew there were good reasons for that – past psychological trauma and so on, whatever Chakwas wanted to call it – but it was still frustrating. And distracting. She returned her attention to the battle outside.

The fleet's dreadnoughts and cruiser flotillas had engaged the Reapers head on. Admiral Singh knew there was a chance they would take heavy losses, but there was no other way to ensure the slower-moving drop ships remained relatively protected as they descended toward the surface. The Reaper plasma cannon was devastating but the dreadnoughts could take a few of those hits and survive. So while the dreadnoughts acted as bait, the turian thanix-equipped frigates would angle in for killing blows.

Shepard craned her neck to watch as Cortez flew them in formation with their small group of drop ships, fighters and other frigates just below one of the huge Reaper Sovereign-class ships. It was angling in on Singh's flagship, the _SSV Logan, _claw-like appendages ponderously expanding as if to physically grab onto the Alliance warship. She could already see the tell-tale crimson glow emitting from within those grasping claws.

She sucked in a quick breath as a molten gold stream lanced out from the turian frigate that had been stealthily using the _Logan's _superstructure as a hiding spot and a second set of shields. All her plans hinged on this moment. If the turian pilots weren't able to reliably hit, or worse, if the Reapers had fixed the weakness, this would all have been for nothing—

The thanix hit dead-centre. An explosion blossomed out from the Reaper's core, sending waves of crackling red energy rippling over the hull. The Reaper began to list to the side, dead in space.

"_Yes," _Shepard whispered, heart soaring. The drifting Reaper swung overhead, out of view, as the shuttle descended to the surface.

* * *

Nathan had his assault rifle up and ready as their shuttle came in to land, thudding down onto the scarred bitumen of one of Cipritine's main ground vehicle highways, but he needn't have bothered. The Kodiak set down in the middle of an area that had already been secured and was being held by krogan under Gadorn Akora's command. They were on the outskirts of the city, surrounded by vast plains of scrubby crops in one direction, low to medium height buildings in the other.

As Nathan and Zaeed exited the shuttle, followed by Garrus, Samara, Kasumi and the squad of turians, Akora herself came striding over. Her dull green armour had been scored a few more times since Tuchanka and she clutched a well-scuffed sniper rifle in her gloved hands. She was bare-headed; none of the krogan had need of helmets despite the radiated environment of Palaven.

Garrus, who also didn't require a helmet on his homeworld, came forward to meet her. The two shook hands and strode off a short distance together, conversing.

"Don't know how the turians can stand all this godawful sickly green," Zaeed grumbled to himself as he hefted his rifle, sullenly staring out at the outskirts of Cipritine. Nathan knew he was probably just pissed at having to wear a full helmet. Zaeed never seemed to wear one. He wondered if that was a stubborn _fuck-you-I-can-survive-whatever-you-throw-at-me _to the universe. If so, Nathan couldn't blame him. After all, the man had managed to live through being shot in the head.

"I don't know, it's _kind_ of pretty," Kasumi commented dubiously, clearly trying to be charitable as she looked up at the dull green sky and around to the scrubby crop fields. The thief hadn't needed to borrow Alliance armour like Jack and Miranda; she had her own custom-built black and grey light-weight hardsuit complete with signature hood.

Nathan gazed out at the waist-high plants covering the nearby fields in sporadic clumps. They were a dull, orangey yellow, but the hard soil they were planted in was noticeably tinged with green. Most things were, really. The miniscule particles of solar radiation permeating the air of Palaven saw to that. He supposed it could be considered beautiful if you thought really hard about it. No doubt Garrus thought it was, but he was biased.

"I think it is inspiring," Samara spoke up in her quiet, wise voice. Like the Gadorn shaman back on Tuchanka, Nathan could hear centuries of knowledge and wisdom when the asari Justicar spoke. "Despite the difficult conditions it faces on this planet, life has persevered and flourished."

"That's a positive way to look at it," Nathan said. "I like it." Samara inclined her head graciously and Nathan fought a sudden urge to bow.

The turian commander had been standing nearby; now he strode over to their little group, his team in tow. "It has been this way for thousands of years," he interjected, glaring at Zaeed in particular. "It does not require your approval or your rationalisation."

Nathan raised his eyebrows at that. Zaeed gave the turian a derisive snort and turned away. Samara raised a hand in placation. "We did not mean offense, Major."

"That does not change the fact that you gave it." The turian drew himself up and stalked off with his team, but Nathan noted that one or two of them sent regretful glances in the _Normandy_ team's direction. Clearly their commander wasn't speaking for all of them.

"Wow, what crawled up his cloaca?" Kasumi muttered.

"Probably got something to do with those bastards up there," Zaeed replied, pointing up at the Reapers visible in the distance, squatting over Cipritine's skyline. Nathan was mildly surprised; he hadn't expected empathy to come from Zaeed of all people. He was probably right, though.

Squinting, he took a second, longer look. "Hey… Zaeed, zoom in a bit," he said, pointing, and lifting his own rifle scope to his eye.

Sure enough, one of the Reapers was bathed in crimson energy. As he watched, it tilted and toppled slowly, almost gracefully, to the ground. Nathan grinned triumphantly at Zaeed, who grinned back, skin stretching his scar. "Goddamn that's a beautiful sight."

Samara had also seen. "By the grace of the goddess, it will not be the last time we see that."

"_Krogan!" _came Akora's voice, cutting easily in over the mutterings of her idle troops. "Move out!"

Two hundred krogan – Nathan noted both males and females in the group, but there were many more females than males – began stomping down the road toward the silvery buildings of Cipritine's outer suburbs. Garrus jogged over, beckoning the turians over as well. They all gathered to one side of the highway as the krogan army strode past.

"The nest is two klicks that way," Garrus explained, indicating the direction in which the krogan were marching. "We received some updated intel that says the place is packed with elite Reaper troops. Originally most of Akora's krogan were going to continue on into the city but they're going to stay with us now to make sure the nest is cleared.

"Briggs, Massani, we'll be outriders of a sort for now, scouting the flanks and keeping them clear." Garrus turned his gaze on the turian commander. "Major, I'd like your three infiltrators to go with us. Your sentinels can stay with Kasumi and Samara and stick close to the krogan formation. Use their shielding to your advantage if – _when _– we get attacked."

Nathan could tell the other turian wasn't particularly pleased at that order but did as asked anyway. Nathan found himself paired with a tall, wiry turian female. Thankfully she seemed far more amiable than her CO.

As the two of them jogged out to a point a hundred metres or so from the krogan right flank, Nathan offered his hand. "Lieutenant Nathan Briggs," he introduced himself.

She reached over and shook it without breaking stride. "Private Kirana Terevas."

They reached a suitable distance and set off, darting from cover to cover together. Nathan was quiet for a while, focussing on their task, but also a little unsure of what to say. Palaven was Kirana's homeworld, after all, and they were watching it burn. Casual conversation seemed inappropriate. "I'm sorry about Palaven," he finally said. The statement felt entirely inadequate, but he had to say _something_.

It seemed to take her an equally long time to formulate a reply. Finally, as they jogged forward out of a copse of stooping trees toward a couple of low, thick bushes, she replied. "Thank you for helping us take it back."

He nodded awkwardly. He had no idea how to respond to that. A simple 'you're welcome' seemed far from sufficient, but anything more would be too much. So he said nothing.

Soon the scrubby perimeter of the fields faded away into the suburban outskirts of Cipritine. Instead of various types of shrubbery they were able to start using buildings and other turian-made structures as cover.

Kirana spotted the first group of Reaper troops. "Hostiles," she muttered into their private comm channel. "Two o'clock."

Nathan jogged forward into the next cover, the corner of a single storey building. The dark hulks of large road transport vehicles sitting nearby gave him the impression it had once been some sort of garage. It was now long evacuated, as everything else in this area had been. He peered around the corner, watching the small group of marauders as they moved forward ahead. The marauders didn't seem to have spotted them. They were moving silently, the distant sound of krogan boots and even more distant Reaper klaxons the only sounds.

There was something about the way they were moving, though, shadowing alongside the krogan force. Their posture didn't seem much like a lone hunting party. "Do they look like scouts to you?" he murmured.

"Yes, they do," Kirana replied thoughtfully. "They're following the krogan, but never getting too close. They're not paying any attention to the… the bodies."

He grimaced at the catch in her voice, heart going out to her. There were turian bodies here, scattered along the sides of the roads and visible within buildings. They couldn't focus on that too much, though. They had a job to do. "If they're scouts, there's got to be a large force of them out here somewhere. Where would they be?" Nathan mused grimly, flicking his comm channel over to the team one. "Garrus, we've got a group of marauder scouts here. Don't know where the main army is though."

"_Can you take them, kid?" _Garrus' voice came back.

Nathan glanced at Kirana. She nodded. Good, he thought so too. "Yeah, we can."

"_Do it. We can't really hide an army of krogan from the Reapers but we don't want to make it too easy for them either."_

"Copy." He switched back to their private channel. "You're an infiltrator, right? So you have an overload programmed in?" He indicated her omnitool and Kirana nodded. "I'll take left, you take right."

Nathan drew his sniper rifle, Kirana did the same, and with their combined tech attacks and rifle fire all four marauders were down in less than a minute. It was smooth, quick and coordinated – the best outcome he could have hoped for. He and Kirana appeared to work well together.

The two of them jogged over to the bodies to scavenge for thermal clips. Before they could even get close, however, a cannibal rounded the corner of the building ahead and they had to pull up short. Nathan raised his Mantis but Kirana was there first with a trio of well-placed shots from her heavy pistol. Nathan quickly switched to his assault rifle instead, wary of the greater encumbrance of the Mantis.

"Nice shot," he commented, moving toward the fallen marauders again.

Before he could take two steps, Kirana's arm shot out to stop him. "Wait!"

Two more cannibals slunk around the corner, weapons raised and firing as they made a beeline for their dead comrade. Nathan swore and triggered his extra shields, firing back. He took one of them down quickly while Kirana dropped to one knee and took out the other, but as they were finishing them off yet another group rounded the corner. A very quick, very rough count showed eight in total.

Nathan swore under his breath. The two of them were stuck out in the middle of an intersection between buildings, and he had a feeling they had just found the outer edge of the main Reaper army. They had nowhere to take cover; but even if they had cover, he didn't like their chances of taking all eight plus whatever was still lurking around the corner. "Run!" he yelled, putting words to action and spinning on his heel, sprinting for the nearest building.

Kirana burst up from the ground, keeping pace with him and firing blindly over her shoulder as a shower of bullets spattered around them. The impacts pinged against his shields, sending the indicator plummeting toward zero. He threw himself around the corner of the building just as they dropped completely. He pulled Kirana in after him, looking her over quickly to make sure she was uninjured, then started running for the krogan army with her hot on his heels. He tried to keep the buildings between them and the cannibals as much as possible.

He didn't waste any time before flicking his comm over to the team channel as they ran. "Garrus, we have at least eight cannibals on our tail, suspect many more. We're heading back to the highway," he shouted breathlessly.

"_Copy. We've picked up a few of our own. See you there," _Garrus called through what sounded like a hail of gunfire. Nathan wondered if Zaeed had met the same resistance.

The lines of marching krogan were a welcome sight as Nathan and Kirana darted around behind another low building and made a break for the highway. A hurried backward glance revealed the cannibals hadn't let up, and had been joined by a squad of marauders as well. He triggered his extra shielding again and began zig-zagging as much as he could.

The krogan spotted them coming. Some lumbered down from the highway, prepping omniblades and shotguns, while others raised assault and sniper rifles and began providing cover fire. Nathan and Kirana ducked gratefully into their formation and hid behind the heavily shielded krogan to recover their own shields, as well as their breath.

Now that he wasn't running for his life, Nathan noticed that the formation of krogan had all but stopped advancing. It had bled out from the highway in multiple places, krogan soldiers enthusiastically running to meet oncoming Reaper troops. Those that had followed he and Kirana had been joined by more, and similar groups were attacking the krogan at various other places along the line as well.

Setting his teeth, Nathan crouched between a couple of krogan and began firing into the oncoming Reaper troops. The battle had been joined.


	29. Chapter 29

_A/N: This one is dedicated to Vorcha Girl, whose encouraging and supportive reviews after almost every chapter really keep me going! Thank you so much. Remember that last review you gave me? Cue evil grin. Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

Shepard dashed into the alleyway, eyes immediately locking on to the three ravagers at the far end. "Move!" she yelled, darting forward into the cover of a stairwell leading to what had probably been an apartment building two weeks ago but was now abandoned, like most of the buildings in Cipritine. Miranda and Jack threw themselves into the alcove with her as she peered around the corner at the ravagers. They were blocking the exit and preparing to fire even as the other half of her team slid into cover in a building across the narrow street, ducking into it via the gaping tear blown into its outer wall.

She had known the ravagers were there before leading her team into the alley, but the rapidly approaching banshees had been a much more pressing concern. "Jack, keep an eye on those banshees," she ordered, slipping her Mattock over her shoulder and pulling out her Widow instead. The ravagers were more heavily armoured than Alliance Intel had suggested, but the weak spot had panned out.

She jerked back into cover as two of the ravagers fired almost simultaneously, a heavy barrage of powerful energy blasts slamming rhythmically into the wall beside her head. As she impatiently waited, the other ravager's cannon joined in, its three-round burst lagging slightly behind its companions' and directed at the building across the way. "Far right," she ordered quickly over her comm, naming one of the first two.

She twisted out and triggered an adrenaline rush, sucking in a quick stabilising breath as it took hold. She aimed and fired her Widow in one quick motion, Miranda's warp reverberating over the top of her head while EDI's incinerate weakened the ravager's armour for James' sniper rifle and the turians hit it with a barrage of their own attacks. She pulled back behind cover as the rachni construct crumpled into a slimy puddle of acid, just before the remaining ravagers' cannons cooled down enough for them to begin firing again.

"Good job," she murmured as the rush began to slowly wear off. One down, two to go. Their position was precarious; they needed to take the ravagers out very quickly or face getting caught between two dangerous enemies. "Take the right again."

Once more she waited for the pause in cannon-fire to duck around and fire off an incendiary round directly at the huge meaty sac hanging from the ravager's chest, exposing the vulnerable fleshy spot beneath. EDI, Miranda and the turians weakened its armour and James finished it off with his own round right on the sensitive green hide.

"Good shot, Vega. Last one," she said.

"Shepard, incoming," Jack warned.

She didn't wait for a break in the cannon-fire this time. "Take it now," she ordered, triggering her adrenaline again and leaning around the corner. She aimed through the warm red haze coating her vision and shot quickly, shields taking the brunt of the ravager's blasts, Miranda moving in sync with her and using her as cover. She spun back behind the wall just before they dropped completely.

A moment later, James called the all-clear.

Shepard was already searching for the banshees. They had reached the opposite entrance to the alley and were already beginning to teleport down toward where she and her team were hiding. _Shit_. Those things moved _fast_. "Go," she yelled, lunging out of cover and sprinting down toward the pile of meat vaguely resembling the dead ravagers. As she ran she switched her Widow out for her Mattock. They needed to get back to Wrex's krogan _now; _none of them were equipped to fight banshees head on, whereas Wrex and some of his squad had armour and shielding heavy enough to do just that. If she had been running with her usual small squad of three she would have been happy to take them out guerrilla-style, running and gunning, but with a squad of ten they would get too split up, firing lines would be crossed and someone was bound to be cut off.

She hurdled the pools of acid left on the bitumen by the ravagers and spun, urging her team past. At the same time she keyed her comm for the wider group channel. "Wrex, coming for you. Got a couple of banshees for you to play with."

She had to spare a quick grin at Wrex's deep, slow chuckle. "_Bring it on, Shepard."_

One of them was drawing close now, flickering as its obscenely wide jaw stretched open and a bone-chilling shriek filled the air. She fired off a concussive shot and staggered it for a far too brief moment, at the same time yelling, "_Move!" _at Major Kyratis, the last of her squad to leap over the acid staining the ground.

He staggered as he landed awkwardly beside her, a mildly-injured spur interfering with his balance. He tilted and his boots slipped, one ankle turning. He fell towards her, lunging desperately to keep himself from falling. She tried to reach a hand out to help him but his arms flailed wide, one of them catching her under the helmet with considerable force. She stumbled back, swearing, trying to catch herself. At the last split second before she fell, she tucked a leg and rolled into it. The Cain on her back made it awkward but she clumsily rolled over her shoulder and pushed herself to her feet.

The banshee was no more than a couple of metres away.

She threw herself back to the ground on her side, twisting to bring her rifle to bear and firing another concussive round at its distended belly. It staggered again, just slightly, but enough for her to scramble to her feet and set off sprinting after her team. As she ran she could hear the distorted cracks of its teleports disturbingly close behind her shoulder. She kept one eye continuously glancing behind, looking out for the massive balls of corrupted biotic energy she knew both banshees would be throwing at her sooner or later. They wouldn't burn through her shields but they packed a punch and if she fell again she might not be so lucky this time.

She caught up to Kyratis quickly, ducking and pulling him down with her as a compact maelstrom of energy sizzled over their heads. He was favouring one ankle slightly, the opposite to the injured spur, leaving him off-balance. Grabbing his elbow she urged him on. No way was she leaving him behind.

They dodged around the blackened hulks of air cars that had once been parked neatly down the sides of the street but were now strewn across it like toys thrown from a child's toy box. Navigating the debris was difficult and treacherous, but the turian infiltrators knew the area and were trained for exactly this sort of thing. They led the rest of Shepard's team through with practised ease.

Wrex had fortified the mouth of the side street and was ready and waiting when they arrived. Shepard ducked gratefully into the barricaded area, taking a precious few seconds to catch her breath and allow her shields to recharge. The banshees were hot on her heels, but Wrex and one of his heavily armoured soldiers stepped up to meet them. One of the banshees stopped a few metres out and began stalking towards them, spindly arms drawing back to charge up a biotic blast. Wrex simply lowered his head and charged himself, with a roar that drowned out the screams of the Reaper constructs.

The impact of a few hundred kilos of krogan muscle sent the banshee staggering back, but it didn't fall. The things were surprisingly resilient. Wrex unloaded a barrage of shotgun blasts at close range, unflinching as its claws scrabbled for purchase on his shoulder and neck armour and its impossibly wide jaw lowered toward his head. Meanwhile, the other krogan soldier had grabbed the arms of the second banshee and was holding it firmly in place while Shepard's team and the other krogan soldiers concentrated their fire. It didn't take long for it to fall, melting into a pile of greasy, dirty ash. Wrex finished off his banshee shortly after with a final shotgun blast aimed directly at its chin, blowing its head clean off its shoulders. It too crumpled into dust.

Shepard grinned. It had been way too long since she had fought alongside a krogan.

She grabbed Wrex in a one-handed embrace, unwilling to let go of her gun with the other. The greeting turned out to be more like a quick clash of armour, but it would do. "Give me a sit-rep, Wrex," she prompted. Although she had command of the entire ground assault she knew she would be stupid not to take advantage of the knowledge and experience of the two centuries-old krogan battlemasters, Wrex and Akora. She had given both of them almost total control over their own battlefronts.

"We're pushing toward the cannons, Shepard, but the whole block is full of Reaper troops. One of the big Sovereign-class ships came down nearby and they swarmed out of that," Wrex told her. "It's been slow going. Now you're here we can move faster."

She nodded, thinking. "How far away are the rest of your krogan?" The main body of Wrex's platoon was on its way to the secondary targets near the centre of the city by now, but if they weren't too far they could provide a very useful flanking attack.

"Close enough. I'll call off a squad or two and we can hit them from both directions."

"Good." Wrex moved off to prepare and she crouched behind a section of the barricade, tapping her in-ear comm. "Garrus, report."

"_We're experiencing far more resistance than we originally planned for, Shepard," _came the reply. Gunfire filled the comm-link, Garrus shouting to be heard over the top of it. "_We're pinned down on the road. Akora's krogan have stayed behind to help. We're pushing but we're behind schedule."_

Shepard bit her lip. _Nathan. _"All right, do your best, Garrus." She switched channels, knowing she couldn't spare the time to dwell on her fear for him. She wished once again that she had found a way to put him on her own team, but it just hadn't worked out that way.

As the impacts of marauder rifle fire peppered the back of the barricade she quickly called for sit-reps from all the teams that were currently spread throughout Cipritine and loaded them into a tactical display on her omnitool. As she had expected, some were doing better than she had hoped while others were falling short. While she sorted out reinforcements for beleaguered squads and gained a rough picture of the overall battle, she trusted Wrex to hold the fortified area he had constructed.

Finally she switched channels again and hailed the _SSV Logan, _Admiral Singh's flagship. The direct line to the Admiral connected immediately. "_This is Admiral Singh," _came the calm, measured reply.

"Admiral, Commander Shepard. We're on schedule, no significant losses," she reported. A krogan fell to his knees beside her, clutching his arm and looking like he would topple over any second. She scooted over and manually triggered a dose of medi-gel from her own supply. He sucked in a sharp breath, gave her a nod of gratitude and got to his feet again.

"_That is excellent news, Commander. I have received similar reports from the other theatres of battle, although our forces in the city of Andanis do seem to be having a rougher time of it. However, they still do anticipate success."_

Shepard fought to keep from tapping her foot. The Admiral spoke with a vaguely accented inflection to his voice and a careful, thorough, _slow_ tone. It was difficult to refrain from telling him to hurry it up when he was talking, especially when she was mid-battle and had already used two adrenaline rushes. "And in space?" she asked.

"_We have permanently disabled seven Sovereign-class Reapers and four destroyer-class." _Shepard grinned fiercely, suppressing the urge to cheer. James caught her eye and raised an eyebrow. She winked at him. Eleven Reapers down. They were definitely holding their own. Were they… could they possibly be… winning?_ "We have taken some losses, but less than we had originally planned for. Things are… going well."_

"Now we just need to _keep_ them going well," she replied. "Thank you for the update, Admiral."

"_You are most welcome, Commander Shepard. Fight well."_

Shepard felt a rush of heady determination at the good news. She turned to face her team, who were taking a moment to rest while the krogan held the position. "Eleven Reapers down," she told them with barely contained glee.

The krogan roared at that, Jack and James echoing the sentiment with their own whoops of delight. James high-fived anyone who would let him. Miranda and even EDI seemed pleased, but it was the looks of excitement on the faces of the turians that really made her smile. It was their world they were fighting for. She wouldn't have blamed them for going into this battle with little hope but now… now it shone in their eyes.

But there was no time to revel in it. They had to keep going. They had a job to do. Shepard moved up to the makeshift barricade of air cars and fallen building material the krogan had erected and studied the field ahead.

The amount of construct bodies lying before the barricade was astounding. It was likely part of the reason why the krogan had been able to continue to hold it so effectively. Huge spiked mounds of brute corpses littered the field, interspersed with marauders and partially melted by the acid left by dead ravagers. It was a gruesome sight, but it also made it very difficult for any living troops to reach the barricade.

Behind the grotesque mess milled the living – if that was the word for it – Reaper troops. Banshees stalked the crowd, winding between brutes, marauders, and ravagers, who were firing their heavy cannons into the barricade. They would need to take at least some of them out before moving. With that many armoured and shielded troops, ammo could start to become a problem.

Unless they bypassed the issue of ammo entirely. Shepard looked for Wrex, and found him speaking with one of his lieutenants. She waved him over. "Got any heavy weapons other than the Cains, Wrex?" she asked.

"Shepard," he replied reproachfully. "We are _krogan. _Of course we have more heavy weapons."

She smiled wryly. "All right, all right. How's about using them on that crowd over there? Give us some room to move."

"Done!" Wrex began barking orders to his krogan. A group of them moved up to the front of the barricade, hefting what looked like larger versions of Shepard's favourite missile launcher. They stood shoulder to shoulder and on Wrex's shouted command, launched rockets into the midst of the sea of Reaper troops. Shepard crouched quickly down behind the barricade.

The rockets exploded on impact, four successive bass-heavy explosions ripping through the screeches and moans that had previously pervaded the air. The volume filters in her helmet quickly dropped the noise to a dull roar.

When she raised her head, the road was covered in black blood and acid, but it was clear. She signalled to her team, catching Wrex's eye as well as she raised an arm over her head. "Move out!"

Together the krogan, turians and the _Normandy_ team jogged out onto the main road in loose formation. Now Shepard could finally see their goal: a nest of squat buildings encompassing a group of three Hades cannons. Just behind it and off to one side, sprawled across numerous city blocks, was the corpse of a Sovereign-class Reaper, just as Wrex had said. She allowed herself a quick satisfied smile at the sight.

The team pushed forward, periodically hanging back behind whatever cover they could find while one of the krogan fired a rocket into the massing troops ahead then cleaning up afterward and moving on. Jack and some of the krogan maintained a rear guard while Shepard, James and the turian infiltrators used their powerful sniper rifles to keep marauders and ravagers from gaining a foothold within range. Miranda, EDI and the turian sentinels fired off biotic powers in rapid succession, stripping away armour, shields and barriers. Wrex and his krogan took care of anything that got past the biotics and snipers, often with shotgun blasts right up close. It was slow, messy going but it was working. About halfway to their goal they were joined by the two squads of krogan Wrex had pulled off the main army, their flanking attack cutting down the opposition even further.

By the time they reached the buildings surrounding the Hades cannons there was a wide trail of black blood, acid and chunks of gore behind them. Shepard's armour was liberally splattered with blood and the ash of dead banshees. Her arms were sore from supporting the weight and kickback of her Widow without aid, her legs aching from constant crouching followed by bursts of sprinting, but the buildings themselves looked exactly like the intel said they were going to look, and the cannons were exactly where they should be. She loved it when things went according to plan. "This one," she said, indicating one of the buildings.

They had to climb a pile of rubble that had likely once been a smaller building to reach a second-storey window, where they were all able to slip inside. Shepard left Miranda behind with a group of krogan and a couple of turian infiltrators to guard their exit, then pushed on into the darkened building. All they needed was a perch high enough and with a clear enough line of sight on the Hades cannons.

The building itself was empty; Shepard supposed the Reapers hadn't thought anyone would make it this far. They moved through the dim halls quickly, ducking through empty rooms and skirting gaping holes in what had once been floors.

"Shepard," Wrex called out. "In here."

She followed his voice, emerging into what was probably once a turian family's dining room. The splintered wood of a dining table was strewn across the listing floor, which was itself mercifully intact. The entire opposite wall had been destroyed, however, creating the perfect vantage point. She could easily see the huge, glistening black superstructures of the Hades cannons and the repurposed destroyers on which they were mounted, a bare hundred or so metres away. As she watched, one crouched deep into its supports, preparing to fire. The roar of the cannon caused her helmet's audio filters to dull all sound for a moment.

Wrex was already getting ready to fire, Cain hefted in his big arms. One of his krogan stood beside him, mirroring his stance. When Wrex spotted her he tilted his head in the direction of the firing cannon. He waited for the roar to die down then added, "Come on Shepard. Before they take out more of our friends."

She nodded grimly, pulling the Cain off her back and cradling it in her arms. She had only ever fired one of these things once before, and it had packed a hell of a kickback. She positioned herself between Wrex and his lieutenant, bracing in a solid, balanced stance. "Together," she told them. "On three. We don't want that cannon aimed at us. James, ready in case one of us misses." She waited a moment for James to get ready, then glanced at Wrex, who nodded. "One… two… _three."_

She hit the trigger and held it, feeling the weapon begin to power up in her hands. Its high-pitched whine blended with two identical whines coming from the other two Cains, all steadily increasing in volume. She clutched the heavy gun tightly, keeping it steady against her shoulder through the vibrations it was emitting.

Suddenly the whine reached a register above her ability to hear and the Cain fired. She was pushed back by the force, barely compensating with cybernetically-enhanced muscles. The other two Cains fired a millisecond later, the solid krogan faring better at absorbing the kickback than she had.

She tossed the now-useless depleted Cain to the ground, staring at the Hades cannons as though her stare alone could bring them down. The payload of the Cain was invisible, made up as it was of warped mass effect fields, but if she squinted hard enough she could see subtle distortions playing over the armour plating of the destroyers on which the cannons were mounted.

A moment later, all three detonated.

The explosion was blinding, loud and _massive. _All sound from outside her helmet cut off and her visor opaqued as she crouched, ducking and reflexively shielding her head. For a long couple of seconds she was completely blind and deaf before sound and sight gradually faded back in. She had automatically closed her eyes as well; now she tentatively opened them.

The cannons were gone. The whole block where they had once stood was levelled, a gaping crater covered in huge chunks of debris.

Shepard pushed herself to her feet and cheered, clapping Wrex on the back and laughing as he pulled her into a crushing embrace. She staggered when he let her go, only for James to throw his arms around her next. She hugged him back, gripping his shoulder and grinning at him before spinning around and staring out at the empty block once again. The splintered, burning husks of the cannons were a beautiful sight.

She keyed her comm for a direct connection to Admiral Singh, unable to wipe the smile off her face as she reported in. "Admiral Singh, Commander Shepard. All three Hades cannons are down, sir."

"_Excellent news, Commander. I'll signal—"_

The burst of static cut the Admiral's voice off so abruptly she thought the channel had been closed. She paused for a moment. "Sir?"

Maybe it had been. She frowned. "EDI, what happened?" she asked.

Before the AI could reply, Miranda's voice cut in frantically over the comm. She sounded uncharacteristically frightened. "_Shepard, get out here right now!" _A glance at Wrex and the others confirmed they had heard that too.

Shepard ran from the room, darting through halls and leaping over holes in the floor. She skidded to a halt beside a pale Miranda, who was pressed up against the wall beside the window they had entered through, staring out. "Miranda?"

The other woman simply nodded her head toward the road outside.

Shepard leaned out, and swore creatively and vehemently. Hundreds of familiar figures were gathered there, waiting. She blinked, sure she had to be seeing things. It had to be some sort of trick. Those figures… they were not Reaper troops.

They were Collectors.

But it was no trick. As she watched, she spotted a golden, writhing glow surrounding one of the drones and lifting it into the air. Then she heard a familiar, deep, resonating voice. A voice she had hoped to never hear again.

"_Assuming direct control."_

Harbinger. And Collectors? What the _hell_ were Collectors doing here? They were all supposed to be dead!

With a flood of nervous adrenaline, Shepard hurriedly keyed her in-ear comm. "All ground teams, this is Commander Shepard. Be on the lookout for Collectors. I repeat, we have Collectors out here too."

A flood of static was her only response.

"Ground teams, do you read?" she demanded, voice steely but brittle as she fought to maintain her usual rock-solid control. Spinning, she found EDI. "EDI! What's going on?"

"The Reapers are jamming our communications, Shepard. I am attempting to deploy countermeasures."

"_Shepard. I know you are here."_

Shepard turned back, narrowing her eyes as she studied the massed Collector drones below. Harbinger's possessed drone stood at the front of the pack like a general leading an army. And fuck if it wasn't a _big _army. Drones covered the street below and spilled out into side streets and alleys. Scions and husks were interspersed between them, along with the occasional praetorian. None were firing, however. They stood and just… waited.

Shepard let her focus narrow down to the inevitable battle ahead, an eerie veil of calm settling over her, dampening the previous trickle of fear. When she spoke, her voice was level and clear. "EDI, I need comms back. Get me something _now. _Major Kyratis, get your snipers into position upstairs. James, give me your Cain and go with them. Sentinels, with the snipers. Miranda, Jack, down here with me. Wrex, your team is our front line."

Her orders were followed quickly and without complaint, even by Wrex. His grim expression reminded her of the look on his face when she told him they couldn't save the genophage cure on Virmire – very, very angry, but resigned to a fight and putting his trust in her judgement. James passed her his Cain, mouth set in a thin line, and headed upstairs with the turians. She slotted it into place on her back.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of cover and into view, facing Harbinger head on. "Harbinger," she called, forcing a casual tone. EDI needed time to get their comms working again. "I was wondering when you were going to show up."

"_Shepard. You continue to resist. Your extinction is inevitable."_

She cocked her head to the side. "I don't know, today's events would seem to indicate otherwise."

"_Submit to your fate. The cycle must continue."_

Cycle. Sovereign had spoken of cycles too. The idea of cycles meant there had to be a purpose behind them, or why repeat them? The Reapers had to be convinced they were accomplishing something. She knew it was probably a futile effort, but understanding them would give her valuable insight into defeating them. "Why?" she demanded. "What is the point of all this killing?"

"_You exist because we allow it. You will end because we demand it."_

She snorted. Futile. "Okay, now you're just recycling lines." She glanced at EDI, who shook her head. She needed more time.

"_You have become an annoyance."_

Turning back to Harbinger, she smiled. At the same time, she covertly studied the battlefield. The Cain on her back would take out a sizeable chunk of the Collector forces but not all. Maybe another of the Cains could finish them off… "More than an annoyance, I think. How many Reapers have I taken out now? Is it three? Or is it fourteen, including the ones the fleet has destroyed today? I'm starting to lose count."

"_Your assumptions are incorrect."_

Two Cains should do it. They could mop up after and call for extraction, then head to wherever they would be most useful. She folded her arms over her chest. "They seem pretty correct to me."

"_You are arrogant, Shepard. You will learn."_

"Shepard!" Wrex interjected, warning heavy in his tone as he stared out over the ruins of Cipritine and the massed Collector army. "Look." He was pointing not at the army, but beyond, in the direction of the downed Reaper they had passed on the way in.

She frowned, trying to work out what he was getting at, when the black carapace shuddered. It was just a slight rumble, but enough to be noticeable. She felt her breath catch in her throat.

The Reaper shuddered again.

A cold, hard vise took hold of her chest and began to squeeze. One hand reached out to clutch the window jam, squeezing so hard she felt the wood creak under her fingers. What she had thought was a Reaper _corpse_ began slowly, ponderously, lifting off and righting itself. Inch by slow inch it rose, debris cascading to the ground below. There was no visible sign of damage, bar the crumpling of a few armour plates surrounding the weapons port. It was simply rising as though it had been lying there waiting for the signal to do so.

As if it had been feigning death the whole time.

She fought to remain upright on suddenly shaky legs. It hadn't worked. The plan had failed. The Reapers had fixed their weakness – if it had ever existed in the first place. Her big, risky, grand plan with its huge potential payoff was nothing but a trap.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter Thirty**

Gunfire whizzed by over Nathan's head and spattered against the portable shields the female krogan engineers had erected. The krogan army had been unable to move for so long now that Akora had ordered them to stop trying so they could regroup. She had sent waves of krogan out into melee range while leaving engineers and snipers back with Garrus' team and the turian infiltrators to provide support. She was trying to break their line enough to be able to push through, and slowly but surely, with the inexorable force of an army of krogan she was succeeding.

Nathan was getting low on thermal clips, however, and the explosives he carried were metaphorically burning a hole in his backpack. He crouched up, leaning his sniper rifle on the shield housing and taking a quick shot at a cannibal. It fell, and he ducked back down. They had to get to the harvester nest or there would be no point to this whole exercise. Many krogan had already been killed, and a marauder's lucky shot had taken out one of the turian sentinels. Their deaths would be wasted if the Reapers managed to continue to keep them uselessly pinned down in the middle of a highway like this.

"Garrus, we need to get out of here," he called over the noise of gunfire, krogan roars and the moans of the constructs. He tried to keep the frustration from his voice but wasn't particularly successful.

The turian was hunkered down behind a barrier next to Nathan. "I know, kid," he replied, easing up out of cover to fire his Widow. "Akora's making headway though, it shouldn't be too much longer."

Nathan shook his head. He was sure Garrus had said that before. At least twenty minutes ago. They _were _pushing forward, but far too slowly. "There has to be something else we can do," he insisted. "We can't just stay here."

"Like what, Lieutenant?" Garrus demanded with a hint of annoyance.

Nathan grunted to himself and didn't reply. He couldn't blame Garrus for being irritated at him. He hadn't offered a viable alternative, so all he was really doing was complaining.

He cast a glance down the road at the amphitheatre that was their destination. It wasn't very far away, perhaps a fifteen minute jog if they went unimpeded, and it _looked _comparatively quiet. If they could get there, it was entirely feasible they could slip in and plant the explosives with a much smaller team than they had originally thought. Especially with the aid of the master thief, Kasumi Goto.

The problem was getting there, though. The route was far from unimpeded – there was a sea of Reaper troops in the way. They had been lucky in the sense that there were few elite shielded or armoured constructs in the crowd, but that luck had been negated by the sheer numbers of marauders, husks and cannibals that had been thrown against them. These troops died relatively easily, but seemed to continually be reinforced by others in never-ending waves. A heavy weapon might be able to clear a path, but Nathan had no doubts said path would quickly be swarmed again.

Briefly he considered the idea of running over the rooftops, but it wouldn't work. There simply weren't enough rooftops left standing.

Thoughtfully he sighted on a marauder, fired his Mantis and watched it drop to the ground. His aim had certainly improved. A few days ago he wouldn't have been able to… Wait.

The ground. What if they took a small team and went _down_ instead of up or through? Turians had similar bodily functions to humans – there had to be sewers of some kind in Cipritine.

Excited by the idea, he opened his mouth to tell Garrus… then quickly snapped it shut. Nope. He wouldn't do _that _anymore – blurt out whatever crazy idea popped into his head before he had really thought about it. They were holding their own here, it wouldn't matter if he took a few extra minutes to think, really think, about the idea.

They couldn't bring the whole of Bravo team – it would deplete the support unit too much – but what if they just brought the _Normandy_ crew? They would have a turian guide in Garrus, and Kasumi's stealth expertise removed the need to bring the turian infiltrators. He glanced at Kirana, who was firing her sniper rifle and reloading at a blistering pace, felling a marauder with each shot. The infiltrators would be far more valuable continuing to provide tech and sniper support for the krogan. The lone remaining sentinel was neither here nor there.

If they ran into resistance in the sewers… were there sewers at all? If there were, would they be big enough for them to pass through? Nathan decided to assume the best for now.

If they ran into resistance, the five of them had the right mix of tech, biotic and weaponry skills to overcome it. When they reached their destination the same skills would allow them to take on a harvester directly if necessary, even if Nathan himself had to avoid fighting so he could plant the explosives.

The only problem he could think of was how they would get out. And that… might not be such a huge concern.

He swallowed, and set his jaw. If they could accomplish their goal and help retake Palaven it would be worth the sacrifice, but he certainly wouldn't go in planning to die. They should be able to make it out the same way they got in: through the sewers. And if that didn't work, the amphitheatre was large and intact enough to allow an extraction shuttle to land on its roof.

He nodded to himself. It was a good plan. Quickly he outlined it to Garrus.

The turian looked sceptical at first, but gradually seemed to become more thoughtful. "You know, Briggs, that just might work," he finally said. "All right. We'll do it."

Three minutes later the _Normandy_ ground team were jogging through the sewers below Cipritine, which _did _exist, and were on a large enough scale to allow them to walk through. They were made of some sort of silvery metal composite, and a good deal cleaner than Nathan had thought they would be. Their armoured boots echoed dully on the surface as they ran, Nathan and Zaeed on point, Kasumi and Samara behind with Garrus bringing up the rear.

They ran for a good ten minutes before Kasumi called the halt. "Any closer and they're going to hear us making this much noise," she warned as she activated her cloak.

A burst of static filled Nathan's in-ear comm. For a moment he thought it was Kasumi's cloak, but belatedly he realised that would be a pretty glaring design oversight for a tactical cloak. He frowned at Garrus, who lifted a finger to his ear and spoke. Nathan could hear him speak in person, but not over the comm. Instead he got another burst of white noise. "I think we're being jammed," Garrus said.

Concern lined Samara's face. "Jammed? That is… unsettling. If the Reapers have this capability, it begs the question of why they did not use it before," she noted.

Nathan stared at her uneasily. "Over-confidence?" he suggested. "Maybe Shepard got the cannons down and they got scared."

"I bloody well hope so," Zaeed muttered.

"We can debate it later. We can't stay here," Kasumi warned from beneath her cloak. The only visible sign of her was the vague shimmering of the air at the source of her voice.

Garrus nodded. "You're right. Let's move. We're almost there. Kasumi, you're on point."

"Got it, big guy. Everyone tiptoe. It's time to be sneaky," Kasumi announced with a certain amount of glee.

Nathan drew his heavy pistol – his quietest weapon – and followed, doing his best to concentrate on the task at hand and ignore the worry churning in his gut. What if Shepard hadn't managed to take out the Hades cannons? What if they were being jammed because the Reapers had something up their sleeve they didn't want the attacking army to know about? If that was the case, Shepard would almost certainly be in the middle of it… Dammit, he wished he was with her.

The five of them crept along, following the course of the sewer as it branched off into multiple smaller channels. They had to move in single file, and at one point Nathan found it a challenge trying to keep his armour from scraping the sides of the metal tunnel and completely destroying their efforts at stealth. When Garrus indicated they had reached the exit they needed, Nathan took point and climbed up the ladder into the back alley above.

The others followed behind, and they gathered near the wall. All was quiet, bar the distant sounds of krogan roars and heavy gunfire from Akora's troops.

"Show me where you want to plant the explosives," Kasumi said quietly from Nathan's side. He started. He hadn't noticed her. She saw his reaction and winked at him.

Grumbling to himself, he pulled out his omnitool and showed her the map he had put together of the best locations for the explosives. She studied it for a moment, then nodded to herself and moved off to scout for an entrance. It didn't take her long. Soon she reappeared, beckoning for them to follow.

The five of them crept in through a side door. Kasumi scouted their way ahead while the rest moved into position to protect Nathan and the explosives as they walked.

Protection… that gave him an idea. He could add an extra layer of protection to the devices, encrypt the interfaces just in case the Reapers had someone or something with the skills to disarm them. Trusting his team to keep him safe, he holstered his pistol and pulled out his omnitool, quickly splicing together files of code to create a new programme.

By the time they reached the first location he had the encryption ready to go. "Get to work, Briggs," Garrus prompted, taking up a defensive position nearby.

Nathan was halfway done when Kasumi appeared near Garrus. "It's quiet, Garrus. No Reaper troops yet."

"None? This place was supposed to be full of them."

"Perhaps Akora's army has drawn them away," Samara suggested.

"Maybe." Garrus sounded dubious. "What about the harvesters?"

"Haven't seen any."

Garrus made a frustrated noise. "I don't like this. Go find them. There's no point to blowing the place if there's nothing here." Kasumi nodded and disappeared again.

Nathan returned his attention to the bomb he was priming. It took him a further few minutes, but he was soon finished. He finalised the setup by adding his encryption programme. He held off activating it for the moment, though. "Garrus, the jamming means I can't detonate these remotely. I'll have to set up timers," he warned.

The turian nodded. "All right. Hold off until Kasumi gets back so we know what we're dealing with."

"Hold off on what?"

Nathan jumped as Kasumi's small form shimmered into existence at Garrus' side. He was gratified to see Garrus jump too. _Damn, she's good. _"I'm setting the explosives up with timers, Kasumi," he explained. "Did you find the harvesters?"

She nodded grimly. "Yes. There are quite a few of them. I hate to tell you this, but they're perching right on top of the last spot you wanted to put one of the bombs."

He made a face, bringing up the schematics on his omnitool. "Show me."

She sidled over and marked the location, Garrus craning his neck over Nathan's shoulder to see while Samara and Zaeed kept a lookout. It was right near the middle of the amphitheatre. Thoughtfully Nathan shifted some of the other markers with a finger, moving the bomb sites to some of the alternate spots he had worked out beforehand. He ended up with six different locations spanning the entire circumference of the building. "That should do it," he muttered to himself. He flipped the omnitool's screen around so the others could see his new map.

"That's going to take a while to set up," Garrus commented worriedly.

"I'll set the timer to a standard hour. It won't take me long to set the charges in each spot. We'll only run into problems if we run into resistance," Nathan told him.

"Resistance seems likely," Samara warned.

"Do we need all six of them?" Zaeed asked dubiously.

"Redundancy," Nathan replied with certainty. "If one gets disarmed, the remaining five will still take out the whole building. It should come down right on top of the harvesters in the middle."

"Good. Let's do it," Garrus decided. "Set the timer and—"

A piercing screech came from Nathan's in-ear comm. He winced and ducked reflexively, clapping a hand to the side of his helmet. "Holy christ!" he swore. "Ouch."

"—_mander Shepard. Be on the lookout for Collectors. I repeat, we have Collectors out here too." _

His squad mates all exchanged significant, surprised glances. "Collectors?" Samara repeated. "We eliminated the Collectors."

Nathan frowned in confusion, looking to Garrus for answers. His mandibles were clamped tight to his chin; Nathan couldn't read his expression. "Yeah, we did," he agreed. "Shepard, this is Garrus. What's going on?"

It took a while for her to respond. When it came, her voice was as steady as it always was mid-battle, but noticeably strained. "_It was a trap, Garrus. The Collectors aren't the worst of it. The Reapers are… getting up again."_

Nathan looked sharply at Garrus. The Reapers were rising again? That meant the plan had failed. It meant Palaven would fall. He watched the blood drain from Garrus' face. The turian took a step, then reached for the wall, using his arm to hold himself up.

"_Garrus?"_

"I had hoped… I thought that with Shepard in charge we might…" Garrus murmured.

Samara went to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder in comfort. Garrus didn't reply. One look at his face had Nathan feeling sick to the stomach.

Gathering his resolve, Nathan keyed his comm. "Commander, this is Lieutenant Briggs. We're on site but we'll need some time to complete our mission. Do we proceed?" His voice was steady and strong, and it surprised him. But taking one look at Garrus, he knew his friend would need whatever support he could provide. His world was falling… just like Earth. Right now. With him right in the middle of it, powerless to do anything about it. Nathan knew how that felt.

"_Yes, Lieutenant," _came the reply after another long pause. "_Destroying that nest will save a lot of lives."_

Nathan nodded to himself, determined. She needed it done. He would get it done. "Aye aye, ma'am."

"_Is Garrus-?"_

The turian was straightening, the lines of his face seemingly set in cold, brittle stone. "I'm fine," he said.

"_Good. Get it done, and get out fast. Shepard out."_

The comm clicked as the channel closed. Nathan and the rest of the team stared at Garrus with expressions ranging from worry to pity to a kind of stoic camaraderie from Zaeed. "Set the timer, Briggs," Garrus ordered, visibly pulling himself together. "We'll place the charges, then call for extraction."

"Yes, sir," Nathan replied, getting to work. As he worked, he turned his attention to Kasumi. "We're going to need to do this _really_ fucking quickly. With everything going to hell out there we need to get out fast. What if we split up? I can set up a couple of the bombs so a tech like Garrus or yourself could arm them no problems."

She nodded to herself, pacing in short circles, as agitated as he had ever seen her. "I was able to scout the nearest bomb sites and they were relatively clear, but there were lots of Reaper troops nearer the harvesters. The other locations are beyond that. I don't know if three of us would be enough to fight through."

Garrus stare was piercing. "What about two, including yourself, full stealth mode?"

"Even if we managed to get past the Reaper troops undetected, whoever sets the charges would be doing it under a lot of pressure. Demolitions is not my forte. Nor yours, Garrus." Kasumi cast Nathan a dubious glance. "I'd have to take Nathan, and he's not very stealthy."

"Not in my armour I'm not, but I could take it off," Nathan offered grimly, glancing at Garrus. "I shouldn't start getting sick until I've been exposed for at least thirty minutes, right? And we'll extract soon after that." Garrus nodded slowly as he met Nathan's eyes, both of them fully aware of just how many assumptions they were making.

Zaeed snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "So you'd sound like a charging volus rather than a charging elcor? Not much improvement."

"Do you have a better idea?" Nathan shot back. "I'm not a fucking infiltrator but neither are any of you. I can follow Kasumi's instructions and stay as quiet as I can. And if that fails… well, I won't leave my guns back with my armour."

"He's right, we don't have any other option," Garrus decided. "We do it. Get moving, kid, get your armour off and give me two of those bombs."

* * *

"Shepard!"

She watched the Reaper rise silently, unable to gather the willpower to respond. As soon as it righted itself, it would begin to rain destruction down on them, and it would all be over. All the hope she had allowed herself to feel over the past few days… snuffed out. Gone.

"Shepard!"

She glanced over at EDI, who had pitched her voice higher than normal in an effort to get her attention. "What?" she forced out.

"Shepard, I have comms. I have relayed a recording of your warning about the Collectors to all ground forces, but you still have multiple incoming hails."

Shepard sucked in a sharp breath, the sudden reminder of all the people that were still relying on her hitting her like a splash of cold water to the face. It wasn't over yet. They had time. If they could get out _before_ that Reaper reached its full height and started firing, they could all live to fight another day. The krogan had to be extracted, as well as any turians able to fight. Her crew. The fleets. She had to pull it together and get everyone moving. "EDI, sound an immediate retreat," she ordered, straightening. "Patch me through to Admiral Singh."

"Admiral Singh is not responding to hails."

She frowned. "Primarch Victus?"

A pause. "Primarch Victus is not responding to hails."

_Fuck. _She watched the glistening black carapace of the Reaper rise, inch by slow inch. Spinning on the spot, she started to pace. "Joker, then."

There was a burst of static. "_Commander, this is Joker." _The pilot's voice was partially muffled by the sound of numerous alarms blaring in the background, but she had never been more relieved to hear it.

"I can't reach Singh or the Primarch, Joker, what's happened?" she demanded, dreading the answer.

"_The Reapers were, I don't know, _faking_ it, Shepard. The _Logan _and _Indomitable _have been destroyed along with half the Third and most of the turians. They were just… ripped to pieces."_

_Holy shit. _It was all going to hell. If the fleet was under heavy attack, that meant she had thousands of ground forces trapped on the planet with their way offworld dubious at best. Shepard glanced out at the massed Collectors below, fighting tooth and nail for the calm she needed to see this through. They still hadn't moved. _What are they waiting for?_ "Who's in charge up there now?" she asked impatiently.

"_I don't know! No one! It's a mess up here, Shepard."_

She gritted her teeth. "Dammit. Order a full retreat, my authority. All ground troops will require extraction and escort. Coordinate with EDI to get as many krogan out as possible. She'll provide you with numbers and locations."

"_Coordinate?_ _Commander, I'm just the pilot, I can't—"_

She interrupted firmly, "Yes you can, Joker. I know you can. Sam can help you. We need to get out of here _fast."_

EDI spoke over the top of Joker's reluctant acknowledgement. "Commander, you have a hail from Bravo team."

Shepard glanced at Wrex. Those Collectors wouldn't be content to just stand there for much longer, and the Reaper was still rising even as they spoke. She didn't have time for a conversation. Time to multi-task. "Wrex, get yourself a Cain. Clean up after my shot. Then we push down and _through. _We need to secure a landing zone. Let the snipers know what's happening." The krogan battlemaster nodded grimly, getting to work.

"_Now you understand the folly of your actions, Shepard."_

Shepard grimaced at Harbinger's barb but paid him no attention. "EDI, patch Bravo through."

"_Shepard, this is Garrus. What's going on?"_

She winced. The last thing she wanted to have to do was tell Garrus his homeworld was lost. But there was no way around it. He needed to know about the Reapers. "It was a trap, Garrus. The Collectors aren't the worst of it. The Reapers are… getting up again."

Silence. She looked for Wrex and spotted him ready with a Cain, out of sight of the drones below. He gave her a quick nod. "Garrus?" She pulled her own Cain off her back and hefted it, checking it was primed and ready to fire. The comm was quiet. She didn't have time to stand around waiting…

Finally the channel opened again. _"Commander, this is Lieutenant Briggs. We're on site but we'll need some time to complete our mission. Do we go ahead?"_

_Nathan_. He sounded… different. Stronger, more determined than she had ever heard him. But there had to be a reason for him to be responding rather than Garrus. It didn't sound like they were under fire… the news about the Reapers must have hit Garrus hard. Damn.

She wanted to pull them back, tell them to retreat immediately, but the harvesters in that nest could cause a lot of problems for any shuttles trying to escape. Not to mention the remaining civilians in the area… if there were any left. It would be necessary to take it out. "Yes, Lieutenant," she told him reluctantly. "Destroying that nest will save a lot of lives."

"_Aye aye, ma'am."_

Shepard felt her heart swell with something approximating pride at the determined confidence in his tone. That tone told her that if Garrus was… incapacitated… Nathan was feeling confident enough to step up. "Is Garrus-?"

"_I'm fine."_

Shepard smiled, a thin, relieved smile. There he was. "Good. Get it done, and get out fast. Shepard out."

It was past time they should be moving. The Reaper was approaching a heavy thirty degree angle to the ground. Thank the asari goddess and all the turian spirits that it was moving even _that _slowly.

"_Shepard. This hurts you. Accept the inevitable."_

She smiled again. That sounded like her cue. "Firing now, Wrex. Be ready."

Cushioning the Cain on her shoulder, she squeezed the trigger and kicked off the charging process. The bulky weapon began to whine, rumbling against her shoulder. Mentally she counted the seconds. At the last possible moment she spun, stepped out of cover and aimed the Cain squarely at the centre of the massed Collector forces below. The whine moved beyond her hearing and the Cain fired, staggering her back a step.

For a few delicious moments Harbinger looked from her to the troops back over his shoulder, as if trying to work out what she had done. Then, with a resounding crack and a flash of bright white light, the Cain's payload detonated. Fire roared out in all directions, incinerating Collector drones – and Harbinger – like they were dry grass. A mushroom cloud of thick black smoke billowed up into the greenish Palaven sky.

Shepard had no illusions that a single blast had taken out all the drones, but it had thoroughly decimated those in the vicinity of Harbinger. Wrex hefted his own Cain, ready and waiting for the best opportunity to hit with a follow-up strike. If they wanted to make it count, it would have to be when reinforcements had pushed through into the street below. Without being able to see through the smoke, they would have to wait for the first group to charge and play it by ear.

Shepard readied her Widow, glad she had thought to add a thermal-imaging scope before leaving. She could see only a few dozen metres past the immediate curtain of smoke, but it would give them a few extra seconds of warning. She waited silently, distant sounds of other battles muffled by the smoke. Her team was quiet, guns raised and ready.

All was silent for almost a full minute. She waited impatiently, the slow and ponderous rise of the nearby Reaper an inexorable countdown in her mind. It was large enough that despite the billowing smoke covering the whole block, she could still catch glimpses of its superstructure above and to the side of the obscured area.

Finally running figures began to appear, outlined in glowing red by her scope. Husks. "Now, Wrex," she called.

The husks stumbled up the rocky slope as Wrex's Cain began to whine. As they breached the smoky barrier, they ran into another made up of assault rifle fire from the floor above. James' volatile incendiary ammo leapt from one husk to the next, setting dead skin alight where it touched. The husks jerked on their feet, halting their advance, some primitive instinct to avoid fire apparently taking over. As they writhed, the whine from Wrex's Cain cut off and one of the buildings facing onto the main street exploded outward.

Shepard ducked into cover to avoid the flying debris. When she finally darted her head out to take a look, the force of the second explosion had dissipated the smoke somewhat, giving her a slightly clearer view. The building had collapsed across the street, severely degrading the route the Collectors would have to take to reach them and taking out a significant number of drones in the process. "Nice shot, Wrex," she breathed.

His answering grin was fierce, filled with krogan battle rage. Turning his attention to his krogan troops, he raised a fist over his head. "Krogan! Attack!"

Fifty krogan poured out from the building, a solid wave of heavy muscle moving at speed down the steep incline toward the street below. From overhead Shepard heard the sharp crack of sniper rifles and the warping sound of biotics add to the roar of the krogan. Itching to join the krogan on the front lines, she instead raised her sniper rifle and felled a Collector drone from range.

With both the human and turian leaders gone, the entire operation was her responsibility now. Like it or not, she had to keep herself free of the main battle and in contact with the fleets. As she reloaded she keyed her comm. "Traynor, come in."

"_Yes, ma'am?"_

"I need extraction for about sixty bodies, including fifty krogan, at my location immediately." She leaned out of cover and fired again. A drone that had been in the process of being possessed by Harbinger fell to the ground instead, lifeless.

"_Uh… yes ma'am, there's… oh. Crap! Sorry, ma'am, but the transport that had been assigned to pick you up was just shot down. I'll move things around, but you'll have to hold there for a few minutes."_

Shepard bit the inside of her lip, firing again. Another half-possessed drone dropped. "We have a Reaper right on our asses, Traynor, we may not have a few minutes."

"_Right! I'm on it, Commander! Just… just hold on!"_

The smoke was clearing, giving her a perfect view of the battlefield. She scanned intently, searching for somewhere defensible a shuttle or troop transport could get to. The building they were currently occupying was crumbling too badly to provide any sort of landing zone, unfortunately, or it would have been perfect. There were a number of other, taller buildings, but she didn't want to make her squad such an obvious target to that Reaper.

One building, however, was smaller than the rest and nestled snugly in amongst a crowd of four others. It was neatly hidden from view some ways down the street and sported a long, wide roof. It wasn't perfect – a troop transport would barely fit – but it would give them some meagre cover. She brought up her omnitool and marked it on a map of the area, then forwarded the map to EDI. "Get that to Traynor and Wrex, EDI," she told her. "That's where we're going." She keyed her comm for a team channel. "Alpha team, get ready to move to our extraction point."

She switched to her Mattock as the snipers and biotics began to emerge from the stairwell behind her, fanning out to occupy the windows. Wrex's team had almost cleared the way to the fallen building, which would provide the humans and turians with the cover they needed as they pushed toward the extraction zone. Time to move. "Alpha, push forward," she ordered. "We don't want to get left behind."


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter Thirty-One**

Nathan followed Kasumi through a maintenance hallway, trying to force himself to step quietly and regulate his breathing so it wasn't too loud. He was feeling naked and vulnerable without his hardsuit. The guns snapped into place on his back felt bulkier than usual, and the straps of the backpack holding the explosives dragged heavily at his shoulders. He clutched his pistol, keeping it at low ready, not willing to trust only in his stealth ability as Kasumi did. Of course, she also had the advantage of a tactical cloak to rely on. He just had to make absolutely sure he wasn't spotted.

He pulled up his omnitool, checking their location relative to their objective. They were almost there. The quicker the better. The whole operation would be in retreat by now; the longer they took, the less likely it was that they would be able to get out themselves.

Plus there was the small matter of the radiation sickness that would be on him in thirty minutes or less. They were on a pretty strict timer.

A muted groan from nearby had him freezing on the spot, nervously raising his pistol. Kasumi paused for a brief second, cocking her head to the side, before glancing back over her shoulder at him and indicating to keep going. He swallowed, barely able to make _her_ out in the dim light of the occasional lamp, let alone any potential hostiles, but he trusted her instincts. The sound had to have come from the other side of the thin wall separating the maintenance tunnel from the hall beyond.

He followed, placing his feet carefully as he moved. It was hard to strike a balance between moving quickly and moving quietly, but Kasumi seemed to be adjusting for his lack of experience in that regard. She set a pace that he could just barely meet, as long as he kept his wits about him and concentrated.

After a short while they came up on his first chosen bomb site, a small maintenance room stuffed with cleaning supplies. Nathan spared a grim smile; the chemicals would increase the effectiveness of the explosion nicely. He got to work while Kasumi guarded the doorway, working quickly, conscious of the time. When he was done he set the timer and synced it with the first bomb using his omnitool.

_Eleven minutes down. _They had crossed to the other side of the building to reach the first site; the others shouldn't take as long to get to. They were ahead of schedule, but still moving slower than Nathan would have liked. "Need to move," he told Kasumi quietly.

She nodded, grim. She was as aware of the time limit as he was. She took off down the maintenance corridor, forcing the pace to increase again. Nathan followed, concentrating fiercely on keeping up and keeping quiet. He couldn't afford to fuck this up.

* * *

"No, Captain Greene, do _not _break formation. I need you right where you are," Shepard shouted into her comm, raising her voice to be heard over the cacophony of screeching, roaring and gunfire pressing in on her from all sides. She was hunkered down behind a section of collapsed wall in the ruins of the building Wrex had brought down, Mattock up and firing a steady stream of incendiary rounds at marauders Miranda and EDI had stripped of their shields while trying to simultaneously keep the space battle overhead from turning into a complete rout.

"_Understood, Commander," _came the grudging acknowledgement as the channel was closed. Greene was _not _happy to have to defer to the command of a marine. It was a sentiment she sympathised with, but right now she didn't particularly care about his personal feelings on the matter as long as he followed orders.

The situation was far from ideal, but she had little choice. All higher-ranking officers had been confirmed killed. As an N7 she had been trained and tested in many different forms of combat, including ship-to-ship. More than that, though, she had been trained to lead. So she would do it, and she would damn well get them out of this, even if she had to drag them kicking and screaming along with her.

It took a huge amount of her attention away from the battlefield she was actually standing on, however. If she was honest with herself – and she had to be, brutally so, if she wanted to have any hope of getting everyone out of this alive – staying behind cover and shooting was about the best she could manage at the moment. She could forget any kind of higher-level coordination of her ground team. She had to leave that to Wrex and Miranda. There were just too many things she was trying to juggle.

She spared a quick glance for the chrono on her helmet HUD. _Eleven minutes down. _They had started pushing towards the extraction zone eleven minutes ago, and she still hadn't seen any sign of their shuttle. What the hell had happened to it?

Before she could contact Traynor to find out her comm pinged with another incoming call. "Shepard here," she responded without taking her eyes off the battlefield. Alpha squad was dispersed amongst the cover provided by the fallen building while Wrex's krogan pushed forward into melee range. Collector troops were now being reinforced by regular Reaper constructs as well, meaning they were fighting banshees, ravagers, scions and praetorians all at once along with drones, cannibals and husks. The Reapers were throwing everything they had at them and right now it was all they could do to hold them off.

"_This is Captain Grigofsky on the _Milan_. We're backed into a corner out here and could use some assistance. Is there anything you can spare, Commander?"_

Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a brute angling to charge a group of krogan from behind. They hadn't seen it. She quickly flicked over to the squad channel. "EDI, Miranda, brute, two," she called out, then flicked back, trusting them to carry out her orders. She brought up a tactical map of the space battle overhead on her omnitool, which had been synced up with the _Normandy's_ sensors, and studied the dispersal of the Alliance and turian forces. "Stand by, Captain."

She could see the _Milan _hovering near Menae with Reaper ships closing in, but the possibilities for reinforcement were pitifully low. Every other ship was pinned down somewhere or under heavy fire with little to no hope of breaking free to assist the beleaguered _Milan. _She had to find _something, _though. The _Milan _was one of the few heavy cruisers left flying in the Alliance fleet. Its firepower was invaluable, not to mention the thousand or so crew it was carrying.

A wolf-pack of turian frigates escorting a formation of troop transports up from Palaven caught her eye. The group hadn't managed to get away clean. They were surrounded by at least six Reaper destroyers, with a Sovereign-class capital ship mere minutes away. As she watched, two of the transports disappeared from her tactical map, destroyed. The other two wouldn't be far behind. Those frigates could target the oncoming Reapers' weapons ports with their thanix cannons, which did still seem to disable the Reapers for a moment even if it didn't take them out completely, and that _might _allow the troop transports to get away, but… it was very unlikely. The Reapers were close and the transports were slow and the _Milan _needed reinforcements _now._

Her stomach rolled at the thought of what she was about to do, and one part of her mind rebelled, railing again at the sheer absurdity of having the leader of the ground assault try and oversee the space battle as well, but that wouldn't change the situation. Those frigates were manoeuvrable enough to get away. She knew what she had to do. "Turian frigate _Coraven,_ have your flight disengage and move to assist the _Milan," _she ordered.

The response was frustrated but resigned, as if the _Coraven's _Captain had been listening in and expecting the call. "_Right away, Commander."_

Shepard watched the frigates leave, abandoning the remaining troop transports to the mercy of the Reapers. She winced as one by one they winked out. That was two hundred krogan she had just condemned to death. _Two hundred krogan lives. _She swallowed the bile rising up in her throat.

Suddenly she was slammed down flat into the debris by a heavy, armour-clad body as the cover she had been crouching behind exploded into rubble. A barrage of scion and ravager blasts seared the air overhead. She blinked up into James' grim face, thoroughly disliking the panicked relief she saw there. It had obviously been a close one. "Lieutenant—"

"They nearly got you, Commander," he told her as he scrambled to his feet, pulling her up with him and over to a jagged and crumbling slab of concrete.

_Shit._ She ducked in behind it. "Thanks, James," she said, chagrined.

He nodded. "Do what you have to do, Lola, I've got your back. Get us all out of here." He crouched next to her, rifle out and already returning fire.

Damn, she had fucked up. She should have detailed someone to watch her six as soon as she learned she had operational command. She couldn't afford to be so distracted that it cost her or any of her squad their lives. She grimaced in frustration. She had never _done_ this before. She had never in her wildest dreams thought she would be in this position.

And yet, here she was, and she had to make it work. For everyone's sake.

* * *

Nathan peered out from his hiding place behind a large vertical pipe, eyeing the two marauders loitering in a cross-corridor ahead of them. The second bomb-site was just beyond. He and Kasumi would have to take them out to reach it. Two marauders wouldn't have been a problem normally, but taking them out quietly would make it more difficult.

Kasumi was pressed in behind him, the hard elbow of her armour digging into his hip as she twisted around to peer past his shoulder. "If you overload one, I can take the other," she whispered in his ear, voice barely more than an imagined breath coming from behind the visor of her helmet.

He nodded, trusting her instincts. If she thought they could do it, he believed her. He holstered his pistol and keyed up an overload instead. The pistol would be too noisy. He would have to run in quickly while the marauder was still disoriented from the overload and take it out the old-fashioned way. He nodded once more at Kasumi, who counted down with her fingers.

One, two, _go._

The two overloads hit the marauders almost simultaneously, staggering them back and shorting out their shields. Kasumi disappeared and Nathan darted forward, unloading a heavy punch into the marauder's chin as it began to recover. It reeled, and he ducked around behind it, grabbed its head in both hands and _twisted. _With a wet crack its neck snapped, and it toppled to the ground, revealing Kasumi standing over her own fallen target, bloody sword in hand.

And behind her, another marauder. Nathan flung out a half-prepped overload, hitting the thing but only barely bringing down its shields. It recovered quickly, raising its weapon to fire on them. Without his armour and shields to protect him, that gunfire would kill him. Nathan threw himself desperately to one side, scrambling for anything resembling cover.

Kasumi reacted quickly. In the blink of an eye she was gone. Before the marauder could fire a single shot her sword was slicing through its arm. The lifeless limb dropped to the floor, black blood spraying liberally from the severed bicep. With another neat flourish, Kasumi's sword plunged into the marauder's chest, carving fluidly through the dead flesh. It fell to the ground in two separate, gory pieces.

Nathan breathed a sigh of relief as he picked himself up. That had been way too close.

The two of them ducked into the next maintenance corridor, leaving bloody footsteps behind them. If those bodies were found the Reapers would be onto them, but they didn't have time to hide them. The next bomb site was just around the corner, in a heating and cooling control room. They would just have to get in and set the charges fast, so they could get moving again.

Kasumi took up a position near the entrance, producing a cloth from somewhere and doing her best to wipe off her boots. Nathan ducked in past her and pulled the explosives from his backpack, getting to work.

"You're damn good with that sword," he commented quietly as he worked. "Where'd you learn that? You don't see too many swords around these days."

Kasumi tossed a secret smile over her shoulder. Her face was shadowed behind her stylised hooded helmet and bathed in the soft red glow of the maintenance lighting, giving her an even more enigmatic air than usual. "I can't tell you that, Lieutenant," she chided him. "It would ruin the mystery."

He smiled wryly as he worked. "Aw come on, Kasumi, I'm not asking where you keep…" He paused and his smile faded as he felt a decidedly ominous clenching in his belly. After a moment it passed, though, so he shrugged it off, continuing, "Your stash or anything…" Without warning his stomach tightened again, forcing him to stop.

Kasumi was studying him a little more closely now. "Nathan…? Are you all right there?"

His stomach heaved, and he clamped his mouth shut with a grimace. No, he was definitely not feeling all right. _Shit. _He was supposed to have more time than this before the radiation sickness started getting to him.

How quickly would it escalate? Worried, he waved a hand vaguely in her direction and concentrated fiercely on what he was doing. He had no idea how radiation sickness worked. What if it suddenly got so bad that it incapacitated him, leaving him unable to complete the job…?

He hurriedly finished setting the bomb, syncing it up with the timer on his omnitool. _Eighteen minutes down. _The urge to throw up subsided just enough for him to feel safe speaking. "Yeah… a little nauseous, that's all," he told her.

"Dammit. We move quicker, then. Come on, get up. Let's go," she prompted.

He pushed himself to his feet, wavering slightly, that feeling of needing to void his stomach returning. God, if he couldn't handle standing, how would he handle making it out of there? He quickly brought up his omnitool and primed a dose of medigel, then pressed the wrist sheath against the side of his neck. He felt a tiny pinprick as the needle went in.

Almost immediately he began to feel better, but he had no idea how long that would last. He set off, hot on Kasumi's heels.

* * *

As the comm clicked closed again, Shepard glanced at her chrono. _Eighteen minutes. _The number of ships up above was dwindling alarmingly despite everything she tried. The Reapers were slowly and systematically dismantling the fleet, ship by ship.

She took a deep breath, trying to swallow the insidious touch of fear that had lodged itself deep in her gut. "Traynor, what the hell happened to our extraction?" she demanded, realising even as she practically yelled at the poor comm specialist that she was letting that fear get the better of her. She took another breath, trying to dial it back.

She had never felt fear like this before. It was wrapping around her mind with oily black coils, tainting every decision she had to make with a constant reminder of the stakes. The turians had committed all they had to this battle, as had the krogan. If she wasn't able to get at least some of them out of there alive it would result in the complete destruction of the military forces of both races, as well as what would likely be the total loss of the turian homeworld and the decimation of the entire krogan race.

Neither of those things could happen. Never in a million years. She wouldn't let them. And yet… it was looking more and more like she wouldn't be able to do anything to stop it. That feeling of utter powerlessness _really_ scared her.

"_I… Commander, there's… there's nothing left, ma'am," _came the tight response. Shepard could hear that the specialist, completely unaccustomed to frontline warfare, was fighting to keep from panicking. That probably had something to do with the alarms and shouting she could hear over the connection. It sent yet another cold stab of worry through her gut. _Not the _Normandy _too_…

Again she took a deep breath, crouching close between James, who was acting as her impromptu bodyguard and Miranda, who had taken command of the _Normandy_ ground team. She tried not to look too closely at the piles of dead krogan now surrounding them. At least half of Wrex's team had been killed just trying to get to the extraction point. There were so many dead, but Shepard couldn't allow herself to focus on that. She had the living to worry about.

They were now no more than ten metres from their destination, but they were a hellish ten metres. Ravagers and scions were blasting the pavement into slag while banshees flickered in and out and praetorians carved into any cover the team managed to find. Ammo was starting to get low; they would need some sort of heavy weapon to clear a path. The single remaining Cain could do the job but at such close range it would probably take them out too. She hoped the krogan—

"Everyone down, firing heavy!" Wrex's baritone cut in above the clamouring in her ears. She smiled grimly. Of course Wrex had something big in reserve.

James grabbed her arm and pulled her bodily to the ground, clearly not trusting her to have the presence of mind to duck herself. As she fell she caught sight of the Reaper towering overhead, ponderously righting itself. It had to be no more than ten degrees from vertical now. She was astounded it had taken this long for it to rise, but she wouldn't look that gift horse in the mouth.

"_Shepard. I know you feel this—" _Harbinger's taunt was cut off by the welcome sound of the crack-_boom _of whatever heavy weapon Wrex had managed to get hold of.

"Pretty sure you felt that," she muttered to herself.

"Everyone move! Now!" Wrex shouted.

James dragged her to her feet, gripping her elbow and pulling her toward a gaping hole in the building, but she quickly met his eyes and shook his hand off. Her comm had quietened down somewhat for the moment, leaving her more able to concentrate on her surroundings. She didn't need his help right now. He nodded curtly in understanding. As they both ran for the building she wondered if he understood that the reason she was able to spare the attention was because the space battle was now all but over.

The whole area was swarming with Reaper troops, bar the relatively tiny charred clearing Wrex had managed to create between them and the building. If they went in, there would be no coming out again. "Traynor!" she called into the comm as she ran for the doorway, flanked by James and Miranda.

"_We're coming, Commander!" _Her heart pounded with a combination of exertion and relief. Of course – if there were no shuttles or troop transports left, she should have known it wouldn't take a direct order for Joker to come for them himself.

Shepard ducked through the entrance, spinning to usher each of her team in after her. Jack's leg armour was heavily scored and she was bleeding freely through deep gashes as she limped through, but her face was set in fierce determination, eyes only slightly unfocussed from the medigel. EDI's metallic plating was blackened in places and one arm hung limply by her side, but she was moving quickly, lending her shoulder to Jack while her good hand clutched her SMG. James and Miranda seemed relatively healthy, although she was reading a slightly erratic heartbeat coming from Miranda's hardsuit sensors. The woman was also looking far too pale. She was moving, though, so Shepard had to let it go for now.

Only one of the turian infiltrators had made it this far, a small female who looked as though she might keel over at any moment. Whether that was from grief or exhaustion, Shepard wasn't sure. She gripped the turian's shoulder quickly as she passed, trying to lend her some strength, and the woman pressed her lips together and straightened her shoulders slightly, nodding in gratitude.

Wrex's soldiers lumbered through next, all ten of them, bloody and dirty, followed by the battlemaster himself. Wrex's armour had taken a hell of a beating, as had Wrex himself. Blood ran freely from his head-plate to his jowls, down his neck and soaked its way through into his under-armour. The armour itself seemed to have _melted_ in places, particularly over one forearm, where his tough hide was angrily red with new scarring. Ravager acid, Shepard thought. On top of that, Wrex was noticeably limping and seemed to be favouring one arm.

He wasn't slowing down, though. She joined him as he passed, jogging alongside and keeping an eye on the group's rear as they all headed up the stairwell to the roof above. Her comm had fallen silent now. It was an ominous silence. Soon she would have to think about weighing up what ground forces still required extraction with what that would cost in terms of ships and lives. She would have to consider ordering what remained of the fleets to head for the mass relay, abandoning those left on the ground. Her stomach churned at the thought. _The ruthless calculus of war._

As if he could sense her continuing distraction, James stuck close by her side. Miranda had gone on ahead, taking point with a couple of krogan.

"How are you holding up, Wrex?" Shepard asked quietly.

He grunted and cast her a sideways glance. Despite what seemed to be extensive injuries, his eyes were twinkling. They were a bright glimmer of hope in an otherwise dark, gloomy mire. "I've lost count of the number of Reaper troops I've killed today, Shepard. It's been a good day."

She managed to crack a tired smile. "It's not over yet," she warned lightly.

His laugh was gruff but deep and hearty. "Don't worry, I'm not done yet either." He patted the last remaining Cain, slotted snugly in on his back next to his assault rifle.

Her smile turned lop-sided, but faded quickly as she caught sight of the first scion moving into the doorway below. "Move!" she yelled, slapping Wrex's shoulder plate and leaping up the stairs two at a time. He followed, narrowly dodging the first of the scion's plasma blasts as they slammed into the wall behind where they had been standing.

Shepard darted past the slower moving krogan to reach Jack, who was heaving herself along gamely, pain written clearly in the lines of her face. She slipped an arm under the biotic's shoulders and between them she and EDI took most of Jack's weight, pulling her up the stairs. The building was a good twenty storeys tall, but even if there had been a working elevator, it would be out of the question with such a large team. She ducked her head, grit her teeth and put all her strength into getting Jack up that staircase.

They had been climbing for a good few minutes when her comm finally chimed again. _"Commander Shepard, come in."_

She swore to herself, glancing at EDI without slowing her pace. Her legs were starting to ache, but she kept pushing. "I have your back, Commander," EDI told her firmly.

Shepard nodded and keyed her comm, breathing hard as she answered. She shifted her grip on Jack. "Shepard here."

"_This is Captain Grigofsky. We have retrieved all possible ground forces bar your own and your Bravo team. We are still under heavy attack. Requesting orders."_

Shepard breathed a sigh of relief. With the _Normandy_ on its way and all other ground troops extracted, they didn't need what remained of the fleets to stick around. "Order all ships to retreat through the relay immediately. You have command in my absence, Captain."

"_Aye aye, ma'am." _There was a brief pause. "_Good luck. Grigofsky out."_

"_She doesn't need luck, she has us!" _Joker's voice cut in over her comm, bringing a tired grin to her face. As she emerged from the stairwell she spotted the sleek white hull of the _Normandy_ sliding smoothly into position at the end of the roof, shuttle bay doors swinging open. It seemed a little worse for wear; deep, black gouges cut diagonally across the hull, right through the 'DY' of 'Normandy', exposing live cables and hydraulics beneath. But the ship was flying, and that was all she needed it to do right now.

They had made it.

"Into the _Normandy_, everyone," she called, ignoring the strain in her shoulders and legs as she heaved Jack in that direction. Turned out that despite her Cerberus upgrades, sprinting up twenty storeys of stairs in heavy armour while helping to carry a small human was fairly taxing, she thought wryly to herself.

When Wrex yelled for them to move from back within the staircase, she moved far slower than she wanted to.

The krogan battlemaster came barrelling through the doorway, the twin laser beams of a praetorian hot on his heels. He dove forward, rolling quickly off to the side as the flimsy plastic prefab material of the stairwell housing warped and melted through with the heat of the lasers, revealing a praetorian emerging from below. Those lasers came roaring across the roof toward where Shepard and EDI were carrying Jack, catching an unfortunate krogan soldier along the way and boiling his flesh within his armour. He died roaring in pain.

Forcing her tired muscles to move with sheer willpower, Shepard shoved them all bodily off to the side just in time. They barely cleared the beams. There was precious little cover and Jack had fallen into some sort of half-conscious stupor, leaving her out of any potential fight. As Shepard got to her feet and grabbed her sniper rifle from her back she tilted her head at EDI, urging her to get Jack out of there. The AI complied, lifting Jack in a fireman's carry and heading hurriedly for the _Normandy_. "Vega!" she barked, turning her attention back to the praetorian.

"On it, Commander." He had dropped to one knee to reduce his profile and was sighting through his sniper rifle. Shepard dropped to a crouch a few metres away.

The two of them opened fire on the praetorian, shooting and reloading as quickly as their tired limbs allowed. The heavy armour-piercing rounds made significant dents in the praetorian's armour plating, but it shrugged them off, pouncing with frightening speed and landing right in the middle of Wrex's krogan, scattering them and sending one skidding off the edge of the roof. It grabbed another in its sharply-angled legs and speared him through the chest, slicing through armour like it was paper and tossing the bloody body off the roof when it was done.

"Incoming, eleven!" James yelled in warning.

Her eyes darted back over to the open stairwell. A banshee was languidly emerging from below, dull grey limbs unfurling with macabre grace as it prepared to strike.

The krogan would have to deal with the praetorian themselves. That banshee could make it onto the ship if they didn't take it out. "Get that barrier down!" she shouted, focussing fire interspersed with concussive rounds on the banshee. With a quick command to her suit's VI she disengaged the auto-limiter on the adrenaline injector, hitting a new adrenaline rush as soon as the previous one wore off. Her perception sharpened and focussed through a constant blood-red haze and as a consequence each shot she fired hit a weak spot.

The banshee rippled with flames greater than what her incendiary rounds could do for a moment, and she glanced over to see the turian infiltrator crouching with her rifle in one hand, omnitool extended in the other, having just tossed an incinerate at the banshee.

Despite the heavy fire Shepard and James were pouring into it, the banshee appeared to now rate the infiltrator as more of a threat. It flickered and winked out, appearing again directly between the two of them. Shepard immediately pulled her fire to avoid hitting James, swearing silently to herself. She leaped to her feet and retreated toward the _Normandy_ to get a better angle even as the banshee teleported again, this time landing a few metres from the unprepared, exhausted turian.

"Move!" Shepard yelled at her desperately, stopping in the middle of the roof and frantically bringing her heavy Widow back to firing position. She knew she would pay for it later, but she keyed another adrenaline rush in anyway and fired.

The young woman scrambled back, startled by the speed of the banshee, almost dropping her own rifle. She was obviously accustomed to being at range; she didn't even have the presence of mind to use her tactical cloak. The banshee stalked forward, arms outstretched, jaw distended far open as it screeched. Shepard fired and reloaded through the red haze of adrenaline as quickly as she could manage, whittling away at the heavy armour of the creature, but it moved ever closer as the turian tried to get her legs underneath her so she could stand.

Suddenly her Widow made that ominous click that meant she was out of ammo. A quick brush of her hand against the spare thermal clip pouches on her belt came up empty. Swearing she slapped the switch to collapse the rifle much harder than necessary and flung it up over her shoulder, slamming it into place and pulling her Mattock free.

She sighted and opened fire in less than a second, but it was already too late. The turian had managed to stand and dart away, but she had only been able to get just far enough to put herself in range of the banshee's teleport again. The air surrounding the creature shimmered and warped, and it was gone, reappearing directly behind the fleeing woman. Its long, bony fingers reached out and wrapped around her neck effortlessly, lifting her off her feet so it could plunge the sharp fingers of its other hand directly through her chest from the back. She screamed, gurgled and fell limp in the creature's arms.

"_Dammit_," Shepard whispered, fingers clenching angrily around the grip of her gun. James hit it with a barrage of gunfire, finishing it off as it tried to shake the turian's lifeless corpse free of its hand.

A roar came from the other side of the roof, back where Wrex and his krogan were fighting the praetorian. She looked over just as it fell, disintegrating into powdered ash. She shook her head dumbly. It had taken another three krogan out with it. Only five now remained, including Wrex. She beckoned to Wrex. "Come on! Let's go!" she yelled, turning and heading for the _Normandy_ herself.

A heavy, earth-shaking klaxon screamed through the air, the vibrations tossing Shepard reeling to the ground. Her helmet filters cut in a half-second too late, leaving her disoriented by the sensory overload. Everything went silent but for the ringing in her ears and the ominous heavy grating sound the building made as it shook. She rolled over and heaved herself to her feet, staring up at the now fully functional Reaper looming over them from a mere hundred or so metres away. She knew it was no coincidence it was facing them – facing _her _– directly.

It was Harbinger.

She would recognise his silhouette anywhere. The conversation she had with him on the Project asteroid as it hurtled toward the Alpha Relay was seared indelibly into her mind. _Your time will come, _he had said.

Well, shit. Turned out he was right about that, at least.

_No. _They still had a chance. Anger surged through her, propelling her to stumble unsteadily over to James and pull him to his feet. She shoved him toward the Normandy, shouting at him to _move_ although she couldn't hear her own voice and she could barely focus through her disorientation and the jitters caused by too many successive doses of adrenaline. Wrex and the remaining krogan were already loping toward the ship. She yelled at them to move too, shoving them on their heavy shoulder armour as they ran past.

Sound faded back in, but she barely noticed. They all had to be on the ship and gone _now. _As soon as Harbinger powered up those plasma beams of his, they were dead. Unlike regular Sovereign-class Reapers, he had at least four of the things, all with the same destructive power. Forget the _Normandy_; Harbinger would take out the whole building and probably a couple of nearby ones as well.

The klaxon sounded again, filtered effectively this time, but the roof tilted suddenly and dramatically beneath her feet as she ran for the ramp. The vibrations of that klaxon had to be undermining the building's foundations. She stumbled away, flailing her arms for balance, until a huge three-fingered hand grabbed her bicep and propelled her sprawling onto the ramp. She nodded breathlessly in Wrex's direction in thanks as the _Normandy_ began to lift off, but he wasn't looking at her. He was staring up at the glowing red irises starting to pulse on Harbinger's superstructure. Time was up.

They wouldn't make it after all.

Shepard sighed, heart wrenching at the thought of all who had died that day, ultimately for nothing. She supposed it made a certain amount of poetic sense that she would die along with them, as the whole thing had been her idea, but she couldn't help but despair. She hadn't done everything she wanted to do yet. She hadn't defeated the Reapers. She hadn't had a month-long shore leave with her friends and crew by her side, she hadn't visited the fertile plains of Africa or the pristine beaches of Australia or the shining towers of Thessia. She hadn't had nearly enough time with Nathan.

She swallowed. It was too soon.

Before she could react a large, heavy figure leaped down from the rocking, unsteady ramp onto the roof below. It took her a moment to focus through her disorientation to realise that it was Wrex. She sucked in a sharp breath as she realised what he had just done.

"Go, Shepard!" he shouted from the roof. "Get out of here!" He hauled the Cain off his back and aimed it in one incongruously smooth move. She stared at him in horror, addled mind frantically trying to process what he was doing. He grinned up at her and she saw a thousand different emotions pass through his eyes even as the _Normandy_ slowly began to gain speed, lifting away.

"Wrex! No!" she yelled, darting out along the ramp and sliding to the edge on her knees. She grabbed a handhold and ineffectually reached a hand out to him despite the growing distance between them.

When it came through the comm, his voice was sturdy and sure. "_This will only buy you a few seconds extra. Don't waste them."_ She could hear the whine of his Cain powering up in the background. "_It's been a hell of a ride, Shepard."_

"Wrex!" This couldn't be happening, not _now, _not after he had survived so much and brought his people back from the brink of destruction along the way.

"_Promise me you'll protect the future of the krogan. Finish what I started." _The whine of the Cain cut off as Wrex spoke, and Shepard watched as Harbinger's weapons ports suddenly went dark. She felt a momentary flash of hope – maybe they could swoop back down and pick Wrex up now – but it was dashed a second later when the glow began to build back up again.

As promised, it was only a few seconds. But it would be just enough.

A lump caught in her throat. "I promise," she whispered, watching as the building on which Wrex stood, tall and proud, disappeared in a gout of red plasma and faded into the distance.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter Thirty-Two**

_Twenty-seven minutes._

Nathan swallowed, willing the nausea to fade just enough for him to be able to concentrate on rigging the last bomb. The radiation sickness had hit him hard, harder than the single dose of medigel he had given himself could handle, but he was nearly done. Just a few… more… tweaks… He swallowed, then spun and retched, heaving on an empty stomach. His head whirled. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to take a couple of deep, long breaths. His arms felt like lead weights.

"Yeah, Nathan doesn't look too good," Kasumi was muttering into her comm. "We need to get him suited up or get out of here fast, Garrus."

"_Damn. I've got his armour. Can you get back to us the way you came?"_

Nathan winced at that idea while doggedly continuing to programme the timer. Kasumi shook her head. "No. We had to leave a ridiculously obvious trail. We'd need to fight our way through, and Nathan couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag right now."

"_Can we get to you then?"_

"I don't think that's a good idea. They'll be swarming the passage by now. You'd have no room to move. I'll… find another way." Nathan really didn't like the forced confidence he could hear in her voice.

"_Just get somewhere a shuttle can get to you. We'll call for extraction and then pick you up."_

"Roger."

When he was finally finished with the timer, Nathan sat back, legs stretched out, leaning against a nearby wall. He laid his head back, closing his eyes and trying to focus on something other than feeling like his guts were a foreign object his body was rejecting. Kasumi crouched beside him, laying the hand bearing her omnitool on the side of his neck. He felt a tiny prick as it dispensed an intravenous dose of medigel. "You're fine, Nath, just give it a second," she reassured him.

She was right; a few short seconds later he felt the nausea recede somewhat, replaced by the faint light-headedness of two intravenous doses of medigel delivered in quick succession. The sick feeling wasn't totally gone, but it was effectively dulled. He slowly pushed himself to his feet. His stomach still tried to roll up out of his throat but it was the gentle roll of a carrier in FTL compared to the wild pitching of a lone fighter stuck in a solar windstorm. "I'm good for now," he decided. "Let's get out of here."

"Quickly, while you can still walk," Kasumi agreed, eyeing him up and down with a twinkle in her eye. "With all those muscles you'd have to weigh twice what I do. I'm not sure how well I'd do carrying you out of here."

He managed a weak smile and gestured for her to lead the way.

She exited the room and ducked into some sort of maintenance crawl-way. Nathan followed, folding his bulk down awkwardly to squeeze in after her. Even on all fours he had to avoid lifting his head too high lest he bump it on the low ceiling. He wondered what had possessed turians – naturally taller than humans – to make such a small crawl-space.

They crawled for a good hundred metres or so before reaching a ladder. Kasumi cast a worried glance at him but set off quickly, leading the way up. Nathan's hands were slick with sweat where he gripped the rungs, the nausea leaving him far weaker than he normally was even if it was mostly suppressed by the medigel. He stubbornly forced himself to climb as swiftly as he could, ignoring the trickle of sweat running down his back and the light touch of vertigo.

It was a long ladder; after a while he was feeling just as bad as he was before the second dose of medigel. He had to stop. "Kasumi," he wheezed, hooking an elbow over a rung to anchor himself and leaning back, trying to give his exhausted muscles a rest. He was endlessly grateful that it was too dark to see exactly how high up he was.

She had been a good few metres higher; she slid back down, smoothly halting her descent just above where he hung. "How are you doing?" she asked, peering down into the dimly-lit shaft.

"Just… need a moment." He grimaced as he felt his empty stomach try and heave again. This time he managed to avoid retching, to his huge relief. He seriously considered asking Kasumi for a third dose of medigel, consequences be damned. He had never felt so sick in his life.

"We don't really have a moment, Nath…"

"I know... just one second though…"

"Come on, Nathan," she cajoled, somehow twisting her body so that she could reach down and cover one of his hands with her own. "I know you feel pretty horrible right now but just think how horrible you'll feel when I tell Shep her man gave up and got himself killed. On a ladder."

He blinked up at her, trying to work out if she was joking or not. "You wouldn't."

She nodded slowly, a small grin playing over her lips. "I most certainly would."

He grimaced. He appreciated the attempt at levity but at the same time he was feeling a tightening in his gut that had nothing to do with the radiation sickness. Shepard was out there somewhere, presiding over what was most likely going to be a devastating loss to the Reapers. He wanted to get to her. He gripped the rung a little tighter, hauling himself up to the next one. "I'm moving, I'm moving. Hey… you know about me and Shepard?"

Kasumi cast an affronted glance down at him. "Of course I know about you and Shepard."

Nathan climbed one rung at a time, latching on to their completely frivolous conversation in an effort to distract himself from the trembling of his arms and the sweat pouring down the sides of his face. "How do you know? Was it Garrus?" He hadn't thought the turian would be the type to gossip, but as far as he could tell Garrus was the only one who knew.

"Garrus? Please. Have you _seen_ the puppy dog eyes you two are always giving one another? I don't need Garrus to tell me something so blindingly obvious."

"Puppy dog eyes? I don't do puppy dog eyes," he protested gruffly, feeling an extra layer of warmth creep up into his already flushed cheeks. Were they really so obvious?

Kasumi laughed. "Sure, if you want to tell yourself that. I think it's adorable. And what about the way you two were dancing that night after Menae?" She sighed. "So romantic."

"We weren't even… together then."

She waved a hand in dismissal without halting her climb. "I could tell you were perfect for each other. So, who made the first move?"

Nathan made a face, not sure whether to feel uncomfortable or incredulous that she wanted to ask that _now_. As useful a distraction as it was, it seemed this type of conversation would be better suited to be had over cups of tea and some fluffy muffins. He grimaced at the thought of food. "Really, Kasumi?"

"Come on. You can tell me. We've got nothing better to do right now. Well, other than climb as fast as we can, of course. Which we really should do."

He sighed, then paused for a moment, wincing as his stomach clenched. As soon as it let up he dragged himself up another rung. "I kissed her in the shuttle bay," he told her reluctantly.

He could see light ahead; just a glimmer, but it looked too bright to be maintenance lighting. It could be daylight. They could almost be out…

Kasumi laughed in delight. Nathan had no idea how she managed to be so energetic while climbing what had to be Palaven's longest ladder. "Tell me more. How did it happen?"

_Enough, _he thought exhaustedly."Kasumi, I promise I'll—" he paused again, holding his breath as another wave of nausea hit. He turned his head and retched, coughing violently and groaning. "Fuck. Can we just get out of here? I'll tell you all about it when we're back on the _Normandy_ and long gone from this hellhole of a planet."

"Oh, okay," she agreed with a heavy, staged sigh. "Promise?"

"Promise," he agreed, the ghost of a grudging smile touching his lips.

They climbed the rest of the way in silence, and Nathan waited with his forehead against the closest rung while Kasumi ducked out first and scouted ahead. She helped him out with a heave on his arm that sent him tumbling to the roof beside the access hatch. They had emerged behind what looked to be the engine housing of some sort of industrial-strength air recycler and were relatively shielded from view. Nathan crawled over to a shady patch of roof and slumped to the ground, beyond grateful to be off that ladder.

"Garrus, come in," Kasumi called over her comm as she crouched beside him.

"_Garrus here. What's your status, Kasumi?"_

"We're on the roof above the final bomb site. Is our shuttle on the way?"

"_Traynor's sending… oh. Looks like we're getting extracted in style. Hang in there, you two, we're on our way. ETA less than five minutes."_

Nathan breathed a sigh of relief. The sooner the shuttle got here, the sooner he could be back in the _Normandy's_ medbay taking sweet, sweet anti-radiation meds. He dragged his arm up to eye-level and activated his omnitool, checking the timer for the bombs. They still had a good twenty minutes before it ran out. They would be long gone by then. Kasumi was eyeing him. He returned her stare dolefully. "I know, I know. I look like shit," he finally said.

"Yes, yes you do. You want another dose of medigel?"

He made a face at her. "You just want to be able to laugh at me when I start smelling musical colours."

She gave him an impish smile. "I can't deny that. But—" She paused as Nathan suddenly twisted to one side, feeling his stomach heave. He retched, muscles contracting painfully as his stomach tried to expel its non-existent contents. Kasumi awkwardly patted his shoulder. "I think you might need it," she finished.

He nodded weakly, gingerly sitting up, propping his back up against the filter housing and offering his neck to her omnitool. He sighed as the dose was delivered and he immediately felt himself relax. "Oh yeah, that's the stuff," he mumbled, leaning his head back against the metal.

Kasumi left him where he was, disappearing beneath her tactical cloak, presumably to ensure they weren't taken by surprise in their very vulnerable position. He knew that if they were found by anything more than a couple of marauders things wouldn't end well. Every minute that passed left Nathan feeling more and more unfocussed until he was barely able to even remember where his guns were, let alone how to use them.

The few minutes it took for their extraction to arrive passed by without incident, however. Which was lucky, Nathan thought dimly, considering how loopy he was getting. As soon as he spotted the _Normandy_ gliding into position just above the roof he couldn't stop himself from giggling with glee. It was _hilarious_.

"Kasumi!" he called, heedless of the fact that it might be a good idea to keep his voice down while sitting on a building full of hostile troops. "Hey, Kasumi! Look, it's the _Norman_! The SSV _Norman_!" The _Normandy_ seemed to be missing the all-important 'DY' from its name – gouged away by a plasma beam, no doubt – and was now a ship named Norman. It was decidedly less heroic than 'Normandy'.

Kasumi appeared at his side, wrapping her arm through one of his and hauling him to his feet. "Yes, Nath, it's the _Norman_. Come on, get up."

Nathan laughed. "I had a cat named Norman once. I taught him to fetch."

Kasumi stifled a tired chuckle of her own. She guided him to the open shuttle bay door by firmly pulling on his arm. Samara and Vega were waiting to help. They looked altogether too grim for Nathan's liking. He hadn't known them for very long but they were his _friends_, and they needed to be cheered up! "Did you have any pets, Vega?" he asked. "Samara? What did you name them?"

James gave him a strange look and ignored the question. "Why is he out of his armour?" he asked Kasumi instead.

Nathan helpfully provided the answer to that. "Because Zaeed said I had to be more like a charging_ volus_," he explained before Kasumi could reply. "Not an elcor."

Samara raised an eyebrow. "A charging volus… The Lieutenant has had quite a lot of medigel, hasn't he?"

Kasumi nodded, smiling ruefully. "He certainly has. And quite a large dose of radiation too. He needs to get to sickbay."

"I will assist you," Samara offered, slipping one of her arms around Nathan's shoulders. Together she and Kasumi hauled him through the shuttle bay to the elevator, then finally onto the crew deck and into the medbay.

As they made their way through the ship, Nathan was too dazed to notice how empty it was. Doctor Chakwas took one look at him and had him lying down, hooked up to an IV and swallowing a handful of pills in quick succession before he could so much as comment on the lovely shade of purple her perfume was.

* * *

Shepard felt the leather of Joker's chair creak beneath her gauntleted fingers. "Are you sure _one_ of them didn't get away?" she demanded.

Traynor was hovering behind, near the cockpit door, clearly wanting to be anywhere but here. "Yes, ma'am."

"None of the krogan transports made it out? None?" She didn't raise her voice, but it was laced with barely contained fury. All of which was currently directed at the hapless Specialist. She knew it and wasn't particularly proud of it, but she felt dimly like a spectator watching herself from above, unable to exert any influence over her actions. Everything was rushing away, skittering out of her reach. Except for her ship and her crew, who remained squarely in the line of fire in more ways than one.

She didn't want it to be friendly fire, but it felt like she was coming apart at the seams, desperately grabbing for her composure and self-control and just… flailing. She needed _something _to focus on.

"No, ma'am." Traynor answered in a very small voice.

Shepard spun and glared at her. "I need Akora! She has to be on the surface somewhere. Find her. _Now."_

Traynor's eyes drifted briefly to Joker, but she saluted sharply and gratefully left the cockpit. Joker was staying very quiet as he kept the Normandy hovering over the expanse of an arid desert a long way – but a short flight – from Cipritine. The area was deserted, but with Harbinger's uncanny ability to find Shepard wherever she was it wouldn't remain so for long. Shepard knew she had to get them out of there, away from Palaven. But she had the only remaining ship capable of performing an extraction and if Akora was out there somewhere, she had to find her. The leader of clan Gadorn was now even more vital to the future of the krogan people, and she had made Wrex a promise.

Her eyes burned as she thought of Wrex. His grin had followed her as the _Normandy_ lifted up and away, narrowly escaping Harbinger's plasma beams. A fierce grin worthy of a battlemaster. He had sacrificed himself for her, she knew. She blinked against the hot tears threatening to trickle their way out from behind the wall she was furiously trying to build around them. _Why? _Why her? She was just one goddamn soldier! How did he expect _her_ to save the krogan without him?

Without him. Shit, he was gone.

Clenching a fist, she frantically bundled all her emotions, all her grief and anger and despair into a tiny little ball and _shoved _it down somewhere deep inside. She didn't have the luxury of time to feel any of it. She spun on her heel and strode for the doorway, almost running into Miranda on the other side.

"Commander," Miranda greeted her crisply.

"What is it?" Shepard snapped.

Unfazed, Miranda returned her glare with equal, albeit less volatile, intensity. Daring Shepard to try and take her anger out on her.

Seeing her emotions reflected back at her was disconcerting and made her more than a little uncomfortable. She took a deep breath and tried to tone it down. Miranda reported, "The _Normandy_ took a few hits during the space battle. We lost twelve crewmembers, including Taschev from Security and Rogers from Maintenance."

Taschev had beaten her at poker a few nights ago. Rogers had almost walked in on she and Nathan in the shuttle bay. Taschev had only been with the _Normandy_ for a few weeks but Rogers had been there for months. Both were part of her crew. She wanted to feel grief, but Shepard didn't have it in her to feel any more of that right now. Instead, she just felt numb. "Injuries?" she asked.

"Three engineers were lost in an explosion caused by pressure build-up in the plasma vents feeding the drive core. Donnelly was injured trying to stop it, as was Adams."

"How bad?"

"Donnelly will be good to go in a few days, but Adams is… not doing well. You might want to speak with him."

Shepard nodded blankly, turning and pacing down the walkway toward the CIC. Miranda followed. Adams had been with her since the very beginning. She blinked, expecting to feel sorrow, but again, all she felt was numb. Detached. She brushed past it, unwilling to take the time to dissect that. "What's the condition of the _Normandy_?"

Miranda eyed her speculatively, but didn't comment on her stoicism. "Spaceworthy, for the most part. We have a partial hull breach just up…" she indicated the bulkhead to the fore of where the old armoury once was, "… there. Daniels – who is the only engineer left, by the way – rigged it with extra kinetic barriers for shielding and localised mass effect fields in an attempt to reduce stress on the remaining hull. She thinks we'll be able to make it to the relay, and Moreau is confident we can go through, but neither of them recommend jumping to FTL."

"Get any non-essential personnel out of the CIC and have everyone else in zero-g gear just in case," Shepard ordered mechanically. "Have some of those non-essentials report to Engineering to assist Daniels."

"Yes ma'am," Miranda replied crisply, making a note in a datapad. She moved on smoothly to the next item of business, calmly, as if they weren't sitting on a Reaper-infested planet conducting what was probably a futile search that would end up getting them all killed. "All _Normandy_ ground team members are safely back aboard. Aside from some cuts and bruises and plenty of ravager-acid burns, the only serious injuries are Jack's leg wound and Nathan's radiation poisoning. Both are expected to make a full recovery in time, although Jack will have some new scars. I received a mild dose of radiation poisoning myself, but I am suffering no further ill effects after taking the medication Doctor Chakwas prescribed."

Shepard nodded. "Good." She stared blankly up at the location of the hull breach Miranda had mentioned.

The other woman paused as if waiting for a further reaction, but continued when it didn't eventuate. Shepard wasn't allowing herself to think about Nathan at all. Not even a little. "Four of Wrex's krogan made it. They're currently in the shuttle bay with James and Cortez."

The mention of the four krogan cut neatly through the walls she had managed to build around her emotions, galvanising her into action. She spun on her heel and strode through the CIC, past the empty security station and into the war room. Miranda hurried to keep up, perhaps unwilling to leave her to her own devices at the moment. Traynor snapped to attention as she entered, standing near the table in the middle of the room. "Traynor, report," Shepard ordered.

"Commander, I've checked all the comm channels I can find. I even managed to hack into what little remains of the Cipritine civil monitoring network and take a look at street cameras in the area Akora was last located. There's nothing, ma'am… well, nothing except a… a lot of dead krogan. I think… I think she's gone, ma'am."

Shepard's armoured fist was flying sidelong into the closest bulkhead before she could think. Akora… the entire krogan military… practically the entire krogan race. Gone.

_God, Wrex, I'm sorry._

"I… did see something else, though," Traynor added hesitantly. "The explosives Bravo team laid at the harvester nest? They must have been on a failsafe timer because they went off a minute ago. The harvesters were never deployed – they weren't needed, it seems. So… they were all there. When the bombs went off."

"Well, that's something," Miranda murmured.

Shepard nodded curtly. It was good, it would give whatever remained of the turian resistance on ground a bit of a helping hand. But she shouldn't have ordered Bravo to finish their mission in the first place. She should have pulled them out as soon as she knew the Reapers had regained the upper hand. She should have known they wouldn't need harvesters to eliminate a few shuttles and troop transports. It had been a bad call. She had almost gotten that entire team killed for nothing too. _Nathan…_

She shoved that thought away and directed her voice at the pickups overhead as she started back toward the CIC. "Joker, get us out of here," she called.

"_Where to, Commander?" _Relief was evident in the pilot's voice as he responded.

_Anywhere but here. _"The Citadel. We need repairs."

"_Aye aye. Strap down, this'll probably be a bumpy ride."_

Shepard ignored the warning, striding back through the CIC toward the elevator. Miranda made to follow her, but Shepard had had enough of being babysat. She tilted her head in the direction of the cockpit. "Make sure we get out of here in one piece, XO," she said. Sighing in resignation, Miranda saluted and headed for the cockpit.

Once Miranda had left, Shepard headed straight to the medbay. As she stepped through the doorway, seeing all the beds occupied threw her for a moment. The ship tilted slightly and she grabbed hold of the doorjamb. Never in all her time in command had she presided over a fully occupied medbay.

She paused on the threshold, swallowing, taking in the sight of Donnelly groaning quietly to himself, gripping the side of the bed to hold himself in place, half his head covered in bandages. A couple of crewmembers lay unconscious on beds, securely strapped down, while some were sitting up, clearly disoriented and in pain. Jack was awake but pale, leg swathed in white dressings. Nathan… didn't appear to be awake, but she could see his chest rise and fall. She took a careful breath and nodded at Garrus, who had seated himself between Nathan and Jack and appeared to be watching over them.

Engineer Adams was deathly pale, lying still in the bed next to Donnelly, bloody scrapes visible at the edges of his own surgical dressings. He had been stripped and changed into a medical gown, strapped in against the rocking of the ship, and hooked up to various IVs and monitoring equipment. He appeared to be barely clinging to life. Shepard stepped over to him and was met by Dr Chakwas.

"He took the brunt of the explosion in engineering," Chakwas explained quietly without being asked. "He ordered his team out – saving Donnelly's life – and was the last one to leave. He has third-degree burns to a significant portion of his body, multiple organ failure, cracked ribs, smoke inhalation, the works. He won't make it. Three of his team didn't. Daniels was lucky to be elsewhere at the time."

Shepard removed her armoured gloves and rested a hand carefully on his shoulder, conscious of the surrounding damage. "Can he hear me?"

"Perhaps, but he won't wake up. I've made him comfortable."

Shepard nodded, staring down at his still form and balancing herself against the rocking of the _Normandy_. She shook her head. She was responsible for this. For everything. "I'm sorry for getting you into this, Adams. You did well. You saved Donnelly's life. Rest well. The _Normandy_ crew is better for having had you as a part of it. I'm… my life is better for having known you."

He didn't stir. She gave his shoulder a final, gentle squeeze, hoping he would feel it and know he was not alone, then moved away. She spent a couple of moments with each crewmember, telling them to be strong, that they had done well. She could see the gratitude in their faces. It chipped steadily away at the wall she had built up, and she felt everything start to skitter away from her again.

Eventually she came around to Garrus, Jack and the unconscious Nathan. When she asked Jack how she was doing, she got a good-natured groan in return. "Oh, I'm just peachy Shepard. Lost nearly half the flesh off my leg though."

"I think that's being a bit dramatic," Garrus murmured.

"Fuck you, Vakarian. Have you seen underneath this bandage here? It's messed up," Jack protested, indicating the large dressing covering most of her thigh.

"What happened?" Shepard asked, steadying Jack with a hand on her shoulder as the ship jolted.

Jack shook her head. "Got too close to a dying brute. Got hit by its arm on the way down while I was trying to dodge one of those Rachni-things. Ravagers. The cheerleader got it before it could finish me off," she admitted grudgingly.

That brought a wan smile to Shepard's face. The idea of Miranda saving Jack – or vice versa – was ironic and wouldn't sit well with either of them. No doubt she would hear a lot more about it later.

Reluctantly she turned her attention to the unconscious Nathan. She _really_ didn't want to look. She didn't want to see how pale he was, his slow breathing, the tubes in his arm. Her little ball of emotion threatened to start unravelling as soon as she laid eyes on him. She wanted to run, _now_. Get out of there, get back up to her quarters, away from the fear and grief suddenly trying to strangle her heart.

Some of that must have shown in her eyes. "He's going to be fine, Shepard," Garrus told her gently.

She nodded. She knew that. Miranda had already told her. But it was nice to hear it again. She blinked, trying to clear a sudden blur from her eyes. Wrex was gone, Adams was dying, Palaven was lost and the entire krogan race might never recover – and it was all her fault. But the sight of Nathan Briggs, normally so energetic, strong and full of life lying there pale and unresponsive was what finally pushed her too far.

"Woah, Shepard, are you—" The glare Garrus directed Jack's way was murderous. She clamped her mouth shut and even looked a little guilty.

Garrus reached out and took Shepard's hand, squeezing it tightly. His fingers were warm and solid around hers. She took a deep breath and straightened, drawing on the strength he was offering her. "He'll be fine," she repeated. "And we'll come back from this. We'll keep fighting. We'll win, I swear it. Whatever the cost."


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter Thirty-Three**

The stars beyond the viewport on the starboard observation deck twinkled quietly, calm and serene, beyond the fleeting concerns of their planets' inhabitants. They persisted, untouchable, unshakeable, withstanding aeons of the destruction wrought by the Reapers on the organic beings of the galaxy.

Shepard stood at the viewport staring out, wishing she possessed some of those qualities. Sometimes she thought she came close, that she had built up her emotional armour enough to become untouchable, unshakeable, at least for a while. She had certainly tried to do that now. She had been building walls, trying to stay calm under pressure, _so much _pressure, ever since she had watched Wrex's wide grin fade away into the distance from the unwelcome safety of the _Normandy's_ shuttle bay. But her neat little ball of emotion was beginning to grow, to expand, slowly but inexorably, just like one of those stars would just before it went supernova. The sheer enormity of her failure today just wasn't allowing her to simply push it down into a convenient compartment to be dealt with later like she normally did.

She hadn't _just_ been responsible for yet another crushing defeat at the hands of the Reapers. On top of that, she had managed to decimate the entire krogan military and finish off the turian as well. Shaking her head bitterly, she stared at the few remaining turian and human ships gliding along beside the _Normandy_ at sub-FTL speeds, limping back to the Citadel for repairs. What the hell had made her think she could get away with such an audacious plan? Surely she hadn't started to buy in to her own ridiculous legend?

She wrapped her arms around herself and leaned up against the viewport, resting her forehead on the cool glass. The Protheans had been stronger, more advanced and united as one galaxy, and they were still completely wiped out. They held out for hundreds of years but in the end they met the same fate as every other cycle before. What made her think that she was somehow different to every other soldier from every other now-extinct species that had once dared to take up arms against the Reapers?

The sound of the door sliding open came from behind her, and she started and twisted around. No one should be coming in. She had taken advantage of one of her little-used privileges of command and instructed EDI to restrict access to starboard observation while she was in here. She needed some time to herself to deal with these feelings. She couldn't let the crew see her like this.

She relaxed slightly in relief when she saw it was Nathan, although just that momentary lapse of concentration sent her scrabbling for control as the tidal wave of her emotions threatened to rise up and overwhelm her. She took a deep breath, chest constricting painfully at the sight of him, pale and shaky, but alive, awake, on his feet and quickly skirting the couches between them to reach her.

As soon as he was close enough, she found herself reaching for him. He met her halfway, gathering her roughly into his arms. "God, Shepard," he murmured into her shoulder, holding her so tightly she felt some of her overused muscles complain. She didn't move. "You're okay."

_Thank all the gods and spirits in the universe, so are you. _She pulled him closer, pressing herself into his warm embrace and blinking against a sudden blur in her vision. She took a shaky breath, fiercely squashing _that_ reaction and schooling her expression into something as close to neutrality as she could make it. "I'm fine. It's all right. It's going to be…" He pulled away, eyes flashing in consternation, and she trailed off uncertainly.

"Don't," he said firmly. "I didn't come here just so you could comfort me. You're always the strong one, Shepard." He gently ran his fingertips over her forehead, her temple and her cheek, then awkwardly continued. "You don't have to be right now. I'm… I'm here for you."

With his tender fingers and earnest brown eyes right there in front of her, she felt her resolve threatening to crack. "I'm… I'm fine, really—" she began, frustrated at the waver in her voice.

"I spoke to Jack and Garrus," he interrupted gently.

She looked away, feeling suddenly self-conscious. _Oh. _After almost losing control back in the medbay, she had managed to keep it together long enough to flee to starboard observation. The effort of maintaining her composure while hurrying through the ship had crystallised her resolve and her emotional armour had slammed back into place. But Jack and Garrus had noticed her near-slip. The fact they had told Nathan when he woke up meant they knew about the two of them, but she didn't much care about that right now.

"They told me what happened to your team," Nathan continued. "To… to Wrex. I'm sorry." She bit her tongue firmly, focussing on the pain. _That broad, fading grin… thousands of krogan lives… _His voice pulled on her focus again. "Shepard, it's not your fault we lost."

Anger broadsided her out of nowhere and she pulled herself back out of his reach, the death of the krogan species looming over her like a heavy black shadow. "How is it not my fault?" she demanded. "It was my idea! I planned it and I pushed for it!" There was no way she would shirk her responsibility for this. Just like Aratoht, she had made the decision that had ended up costing thousands of lives and she would bear the guilt that came with it. It was the _very _least she could do.

Nathan had clearly been uncomfortable – though genuine – trying to comfort her, but it seemed arguing came a little easier. "So what? Admiral Hackett signed off on it, didn't he?"

"Yes, but—"

He cut her off. "Wrex did too!" She winced, and guilt flickered across his face for a moment, but he ploughed on. "And Akora, Primarch Victus, Admiral Singh… some of the best military minds in the galaxy thought it was a good plan."

She wrapped her arms around herself again, shaking her head and grasping at the shreds of her composure as they threatened to unravel. "Fine, but none of them have as much experience with the Reapers as I do. I should have known they would—"

Nathan snorted. "Hackett and Victus were at the Battle of the Citadel. Wrex was on your own goddamn ground team!"

She glared at him, but it had no malice behind it. "That's not what I—"

"Shepard, stop! You are _not _solely responsible for this!"

She wasn't sure what did it. Maybe it was how close he had come to actually yelling at her, or maybe it was the look on his face that said plainly how much he wanted to _protect_ her, to stop her from hurting, and how frustrated he was that whatever he said just wasn't working. Suddenly she felt all the fight drain away.

All her barriers crumbled at once, all her neatly compartmentalised emotions rose up and that little ball of feelings she had been fumbling to keep together completely fell apart. Her vision blurred and her eyes stung as a sob tore its way from her throat. She clapped a hand over her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut, furious at herself, but it was no use. Before she knew it tears were spilling down her cheeks, hopelessly beyond her control.

Nathan sounded horrified. "Oh, shit. Shit, I'm sorry," he said fervently. He reached out for her, hesitated, and when she didn't move to resist he carefully wrapped his arms around her again.

Tucked in firmly against his chest, Shepard found that now she had started crying, she couldn't stop. She fought it half-heartedly, unwilling to break down completely in front of anyone. But… Nathan wasn't just anyone. He had seen her lose control before and hadn't run. And he had come in here claiming to want to be there for her. Maybe… maybe she could let him.

He stroked her hair and murmured comforting things in her ear, and in the midst of feeling a kind of numb shock at finding herself in this position, she let herself be comforted. As she cried herself out and gradually began to relax, some of the things he had said earlier became clearer. The plan _had_ been signed off on by multiple military leaders with far more experience than herself. He was right about that. It had been her idea and she had been the driving force behind setting it in motion, but she hadn't done that in a vacuum.

And she had no way to know that the Reapers would have fixed the weakness she had found by the time they attacked, let alone that they had laid an elaborate trap for the attacking force. Not to mention the presence of the Collectors. If they hadn't been there, perhaps the ground battle would have gone very differently, and Wrex wouldn't have…

She sighed quietly as she felt the urge to sob begin to subside. "Why…" She cleared her throat and tried again, mumbling into the warmth of Nathan's shirt. "Why Wrex? Why him and not me?"

Nathan was quiet for a while. "Huh?" he finally said, sounding confused.

She raised her head to look up at him. "Wrex stayed on that building to buy the _Normandy_ enough time to get away. Before he died, he made me promise to safeguard the future of his people. He sacrificed himself for _me. _Why?" she demanded softly. "Why couldn't he survive instead? His people need him, not me. How am I supposed to save the krogan without him?"

Nathan frowned at that, raising a hand to brush some wayward hair away from her eyes. His other arm tightened around her waist, keeping her close. "Was there a choice? What exactly happened?"

She closed her eyes for a moment. "We were on top of a building, about to board the _Normandy_. A couple of Reaper elites managed to get to us before we could get away. We had to take them out first, which gave Harbinger enough time to right himself and start charging his weapons."

"Harbinger himself was there?"

She nodded. "Yes. We made it onto the _Normandy_, but Wrex must have realised we wouldn't be able to take off in time. He… he jumped back down. I couldn't… Harbinger's siren… my helmet filters didn't kick in properly." She waved a vague hand in the direction of her ears. "I was too disoriented to stop him. He fired the last Cain and shorted out Harbinger's weapons as we lifted off. It gave us the extra few seconds we needed to get away." She grimaced. "Why didn't he just fire from the ship? The building wasn't that much more stable. If I hadn't been so slow to react, maybe I could have—"

"Stop that," Nathan interrupted gently. "You know how perfect hindsight is. Don't do that to yourself. Of course if you could have sat down and planned for that exact set of circumstances you would have been able to save Wrex andget the _Normandy _out of there. Hell, I have no doubts you would have come up with a way to take Harbinger out along the way. But that's not how it happened. You did the best you could, and so did Wrex. He saved dozens of lives, yours included. That's… a hell of a thing."

He shifted, pulling her around with him and perching on the lip of the viewport. He looked visibly relieved as he took the weight off his legs, and it reminded her of how sick he still must be feeling. He didn't mention it, though, just slipped both hands around her waist and met her eyes. "The courage that would have taken… I wish I had the chance to know him like you did."

She felt the ghost of a smile touch her lips, remembering the look on Wrex's face as he revealed the Pharos Valley to them, the culmination of all his hopes and dreams. The triumphant snarl as he charged a geth destroyer on their way to face Saren on the Citadel. The wide, happy grin as he greeted her when she arrived on Tuchanka for the first time after being brought back to life by Cerberus. "He was… a hell of a warrior," she remembered. "Strong and proud. Deeply protective of his people. Wiser than he seemed at first glance. He would have been perfect to lead the united krogan. And… he was a good friend."

Nathan seemed to mull that over. "He'll get some kind of state funeral, right? Stuffy and full of dignitaries? Do krogan do that?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I don't think they would have bothered with it too much in recent times."

"Well, maybe we should have our own memorial too. To remember him the way he would want to be remembered."

She nodded slowly. "That's a good idea. Tali and Liara would want to be there. Grunt and Kaidan too. All right, I'll see if I can arrange something while we're on the Citadel."

Nathan pulled her closer and kissed her tenderly, brushing his nose against her cheek. "Tell me if there's anything I can do to help," he offered. "Or, you know, just order me to do it," he amended sheepishly. She couldn't help a wry smile at that. Sometimes when they were together she found herself forgetting he was her subordinate too. "Have you spoken to Hackett yet?" he asked.

She made a face. She had been holding off on that until she had a better handle on her emotions. "No, but I can't put it off for much longer. He'll have received Captain Grigofsky's report by now and he'll be wanting to know how I got one of his best Admirals killed and the Third Fleet all but destroyed."

A shadow fell over Nathan's face. "Shepard…"

She shook her head. "I know. It wasn't _all _my fault. But I do bear a lot of responsibility for what happened. I can't hide from that. I don't _want _to."

He grimaced. "Yeah, I suppose you're right."

She peered at him closely, noting that he seemed even paler than when he had first entered the room. "Are you all right?" she asked. He was clamping his lips together tightly, swallowing and making a face. Tiny beads of sweat shone against the skin of his brow. "You're not all right. Come on, let's get you back to the medbay before Dr Chakwas has both of our heads."

She ducked a shoulder under his arm and supported some of his weight, guiding him to the door. "How did you convince her to let you leave, anyway? You're clearly not in any shape to be out of bed."

"I told her I needed to see you."

She snorted. "She wouldn't have let you out for that."

"She challenged me to get up and walk out of there on my own. She said that if I could do that, I could leave for an hour." He grinned. "She didn't think I could do it."

Shepard couldn't help but laugh. Impulsively she stood up on her toes to give him a quick affectionate kiss before they left the privacy of the observation deck. "My hero," she quipped. He winked at her, and even though he was pale and his grin was mildly pained, she still felt her heart jump just a little in response. Although it wasn't just his wink that prompted her reaction this time.

She had all but fallen apart in front of him again – much worse than when it had happened back in Vancouver – and he had stepped up to be there for her in a way she hadn't been sure he could. Chakwas had told her that she was underestimating this side of him. Maybe she had been right.

* * *

After leaving Nathan in the care of a very unimpressed Dr Chakwas, Shepard knew she couldn't put off reporting in to Hackett any longer. She headed back to the elevator and her quarters to grab a quick shower, then threw on her BDU jacket and re-pinned her hair before heading back down toward the war room.

She was feeling better after talking to Nathan, although she still couldn't quite believe that she had actually burst into tears in front of him. Just the idea of it made her cringe. She hadn't cried in years. Years! Marines don't cry! She felt like an idiot for doing it, but she had to grudgingly admit that it had been cathartic. The little ball of emotions she had stuffed way down deep inside had well and truly unravelled. She thought that might be a good thing in the long run. In its place she could feel a well of hard, cold, steely resolve. She would need that in the days and weeks to come, she was certain… if they lasted that long.

She determinedly shook off that thought. They had lost at Palaven, and lost hard, but they weren't beaten yet. They still had the rest of the human fleet, what little remained of the turian navy, and the Crucible. The asari and salarians would have to come to the table eventually, even if it took until their own worlds were threatened for them to finally come around. The other non-Council races weren't quite as prolific militarily but together the elcor, hanar, volus and even the vorcha could provide a significant boost to their overall forces.

No, she couldn't give up. If anything, it was time to push harder, be more aggressive. It wouldn't be easy to gather more support now, after such a big loss, and some of those races wouldn't respond to diplomacy as well as they would to a big gun held in their collective faces, but it had to be done. Nothing less than the survival of entire species was at stake.

She set her teeth firmly. She didn't necessarily have to like the idea, but she would hold that gun if she had to. A light shiver of apprehension crept insidiously along her spine. The stakes were too high to start quibbling over diplomatic niceties.

Speaking of niceties… when she emerged from the elevator into the CIC she went immediately to Specialist Traynor's station. This was more than just a nicety. Traynor was a valued member of her crew and didn't deserve to be treated the way Shepard had treated her earlier.

The dark-haired woman spun and saluted as soon as she spotted Shepard, and Shepard couldn't help but notice a hint of wariness in her expression. She sighed inwardly. She couldn't blame her. "At ease, Traynor," she said. "Sam… I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you earlier. I was out of line."

Traynor appeared momentarily surprised, but relaxed quickly, accepting the apology at face value. Shepard hadn't thought her the type to hold a grudge; it seems she was right. "It's all right, ma'am. I understand. You were… under a lot of pressure. I'm just disappointed I couldn't find Gadorn Akora."

"Yeah. So am I, Specialist. We needed her. But you did the best you could with the tools you had. You did a good job," Shepard told her firmly.

Sam's face lit up slightly at that. "Thank you, ma'am."

"I assume Admiral Hackett has been trying to contact me?"

"Yes, ma'am. I've been giving him excuses… you were visiting the crew in the medbay, dealing with logistical issues, things like that. His last message was to tell you to contact him immediately. That, um, was fifteen minutes ago."

Shepard winced. "All right. Get him on the QEC for me."

"Right away, ma'am." Traynor turned back to her terminal, back a little straighter now. Satisfied, Shepard ducked through the security antechamber and into the war room. By the time she reached the QEC itself, Hackett was waiting. Very impatiently.

"Shepard! What the hell took you so long?" he demanded.

She snapped to attention and offered him a crisp salute. "I apologise, sir. A number of my crew are injured. One won't make it. I needed to spend some time with him."

Hackett returned her salute with an apologetic sigh. "I'm sorry to hear that. Who is it?"

"Engineer Adams, sir. He's been with me from the start."

Hackett shook his head morosely. "War is a horrible thing, Shepard. There are always too many casualties. Some are bound to hit close to home."

"Adams isn't the only one I lost." Shepard took a deep breath and gave him a full report on the events of the battle for Palaven. She kept her tone as clinical and dispassionate as she could, but couldn't help a slight waver in her voice when she spoke of Wrex's sacrifice.

"Damn, it's worse than I thought, then," Hackett muttered when she was finished. "Both Wrex and Akora gone, practically the entire krogan military, most of the remaining turian fleet, the Primarch… not to mention most of our Third and Admiral Singh… we're not in a good position now, Shepard."

She closed her eyes, swallowing past the lump in her throat. "I know. I take full responsibility, sir."

"What? Don't be stupid." She blinked, staring at him in surprise. "I may have put you in charge of our offensive against the Reapers but that doesn't mean I trust a newly-promoted _commander_ to plan entire fleet actions by herself. Even if it's you. No, the Primarch and I bear the responsibility for this one, I think, if any of us do." Hackett snorted. "It's a pity he's not around anymore to take his share of that. But if we're assigning blame here, I'm far more inclined to blame the Reapers than any of us. The plan was solid. They just got the drop on us."

She shook her head. She hadn't expected to hear Nathan's words echoed by Admiral Hackett. She had been prepared for the worst dressing-down of her life. "What about the ground assault? That was my direct command and we lost nearly everyone," she insisted.

Hackett chuckled humourlessly. "You fell into a Reaper trap, Shepard. They had you right where they wanted you. I'm surprised you didn't lose the whole force. No, you did everything right. I've looked at Grigofsky's report and the data he managed to salvage from the _Logan. _If it wasn't for your actions after taking command of the operation from the ground we would have lost a lot more than we did."

She shook her head in disbelief. "I… but..."

"That's enough, Shepard," he interrupted her, irritation rising to the surface again. "We have far more important things to worry about. We need to work out how the Reapers knew you were coming."

That stopped her in her tracks. She had been so preoccupied grieving for Wrex and feeling responsible for their defeat that she hadn't taken the time to think about the fact that someone had to have warned the Reapers ahead of time. He had a very good point. "A lot of people knew about it, Admiral," she warned.

"I doubt it's as many as you think it is. Go over the list on your end and forward it to me, I'll have Intelligence look into it. I want to know about anyone who was told prior to the day of the attack."

She bit her lip, thoroughly disliking the idea of sending him a list containing what would essentially be the names of all the people she trusted most in her crew. Including… _shit. _She had told Nathan the night before. Hackett would surely have questions about why she was showing top secret mission briefs to a lowly Lieutenant.

She could just leave his name off the list, she supposed, but what if Intel found out anyway? He would be investigated, probably more thoroughly than he otherwise would be, and she could be court-martialled for lying to them. She would be dragged off to prison again… would they do that? In the middle of a war? She doubted it but wasn't particularly inclined to take the chance, nor risk the distraction from the mission the threat could cause.

She sighed in reluctance. Well, she would have had to do this one day if she ever wanted to stop hiding their relationship. She wouldn't have picked _now _if she had a choice, but it looked like she wasn't going to get one. "Sir, there's going to be a name on that list that you should know a bit more about."

He raised an eyebrow, the scar that creased his cheek and cut through his lip giving him a stern look. "Go on."

Shepard shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She had no idea how to say this. Vaguely she remembered a confident brush-off she had once given Nathan. Something along the lines of, _don't worry about Hackett, I can handle him. _God, she was going to eat her words now. She took a quick breath and steeled herself. "Lieutenant Nathan Briggs. One of my marines."

"The one you escaped Earth with? Your personal guard in Vancouver? Anderson mentioned him."

She cast him a curious glance, even as she felt a pang of worry at the mention of her old mentor, who as far as she knew was still leading the resistance back on Earth. "He did?"

"After you got off Earth Briggs was slated to be transferred to the security detachment for the Alliance offices on the Citadel," Hackett told her. "Hell if I know why – we need all the soldiers we can get out in the field right now. In any case, Anderson convinced me to override those orders and leave him with you. Something about the two of you working well together. Was he wrong?"

Nathan was originally going to be transferred to the Citadel, and had only ended up staying on the _Normandy_ through Hackett's intervention? That was interesting, but a question for another time. "No, sir. Lieutenant Briggs is a good soldier. We do work well together." She paused a moment, trying to work out how best to say it. "We're… also seeing one another," she finally finished.

"You're what?" The lines of the Admiral's face deepened in disapproval. "Did I hear you correctly, Commander? You're sleeping with this man?"

She winced at the way he put it, and his use of her rank instead of her name. "I'm in a relationship with him, yes, Admiral," she acknowledged, feeling her chin raise just slightly at his accusatory tone. "I didn't go looking for it," she added quickly, "but it happened anyway."

"Shepard, what the hell are you thinking?" he demanded. "You've got a job to do!"

"My personal life has nothing to do with how well I do my job, sir—"

"Except it does, doesn't it? Or else Lieutenant Briggs wouldn't be on that list. You revealed classified intelligence to your _boyfriend_?"

Shepard bristled. She had promised Nathan she would teach him, and had thought it was a good opportunity to do so. He had shown his interest in military tactics and she wanted to foster that. She hadn't just decided to let him see her plans because they were sleeping together. "With all due respect, sir, you know me better than that," she replied, a little ice slipping into her tone despite her efforts to hold it back.

"I thought I did, Commander." Inwardly she winced. The Admiral could outdo her in frostiness any day.

"Lieutenant Briggs is part of my marine detachment and an N-school candidate," she argued firmly. "I have a responsibility to teach him as well as I can. I trust him, and I judged it to be a training opportunity."

Hackett scoffed at that. "Don't be an idiot, Shepard. I see you replacing me one day, but I'm still not going to ask for your opinion on the broad deployment of the Alliance fleet!"

Shepard shifted, feeling a sudden unwelcome sliver of uncertainty creep into her composure. She brushed over the idea that she would replace Hackett as Admiral of the Fleet one day – that was just ridiculous – but the rest of it… he might actually have a point there. There was a long way from N-school recruit to N7, just like there was a long way from Commander to Admiral. Had it _really_ been appropriate for her to share her battle plans with Nathan – in that sense, a very junior soldier – after all?

Hackett continued, a little gentler this time. "I know it seems like I'm being unduly harsh and disregarding the fact that I know you have good judgement – you've proven that time and time again. But it's for exactly this reason that I need you to try and get some perspective here. Showing him that data was a bad call. You don't often make bad calls, Shepard."

He clasped his hands behind his back, penetrating gaze fixed on her. "I'm not going to order you to break it off. I _do _trust your judgement. But I've seen this before; no matter how good they are otherwise, when a commander enters into a relationship with a member of their crew they lose focus. Especially if the partner is a direct subordinate. And I need you to stay focussed, Shepard. The _galaxy_ needs you to stay focussed."

She blinked, thrown for a loop. Had being with Nathan affected her judgement? Now that she thought about it, she couldn't definitively say it hadn't. Concealing her injury from the team on the recruitment station came to mind. At the very least, it was something she needed to mull over a bit more. "I'll… think on what you say, Admiral."

He nodded in curt acknowledgement, clearly satisfied he had said his piece. "Good. Now. You say the Collectors made an appearance? I thought you finished them off when you destroyed their base."

Shepard straightened as she continued her report. She left aside her sudden misgivings about her relationship with Nathan for later, but couldn't shake the tiny seed of doubt Hackett's observations had planted in her mind.

* * *

Later, in her quarters, Shepard found herself staring numbly at her monitor, having to seriously consider the fact that her judgement may have been compromised. That Admiral Hackett might be right. She didn't want to believe it, but the evidence was sitting right there in front of her, in a message from Tali marked 'Urgent'. She remembered receiving it the morning of the battle for Palaven, then telling herself she would look at it later. Nathan had woken up right then, and she had wanted to spend time with him.

She had completely forgotten about it.

She let her head fall into her hands, closing her burning eyes. It was no use, the words of the message were seared into her mind now.

'_Shepard,_

'_The geth have discovered a hidden Collector base deep within what was formerly rachni space. The base was previously considered to be empty or dormant or something – I'm unclear on the geth's reasoning here – so was only passively observed, but it came online a couple of days ago when the Reapers arrived in-system. They swarmed the place, then left, but the base itself appears to be active now. Collector defences have forced the geth to go back to relying on passive surveillance._

'_But here's the thing, Shepard: when the Reapers left, the geth observed them loading drop-ships. Hundreds of them. I think it's safe to assume the Collectors are back in play._

'_I don't have access to a QEC right now, but as soon as I can get to one I will contact you. Be careful._

'_Tali.'_

* * *

_A/N: And with that, it's time for me to take a break. Christmas is approaching, along with a few pretty big things IRL that I need to deal with. With my attention split between so many things I'm finding it increasingly difficult to write as well as I want to, so I'm going to slow down for a while. I probably won't be posting anything until the New Year. Don't worry, though, I haven't abandoned the story. I have at least the next five chapters in first-draft form already plus plenty more outlined._

_Thank you to everyone who has been reading and reviewing, following and favouriting. I'm so glad you're enjoying reading it just as much as I've been enjoying writing it._


	34. Chapter 34

_A/N: Happy New Year everyone! Here's a nice long chapter to kick things off again._

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Four**

The mess was quiet. The only sounds were the occasional muted groans coming from the nearby medbay, and Chan bustling around in the kitchen. Shepard sat at one of the mess tables, shoulders hunched forward over folded arms, trying not to listen too hard to those groans. She could have just gone to another area of the ship to get away from them, but something kept her in her seat. It was almost as though being there and hearing the pain her crewmembers were in helped to satisfy the guilt she felt for causing it.

There was too much going on in her mind for her to sleep. Tali's message, Hackett's warning, the sudden appearance of the Collectors, not to mention all the agonising she was doing over what their next move should be… it was too much for her to just switch off and ignore.

She focussed on Chan instead, idly wondering what he was doing up at this hour. Surely the cleanliness of the kitchen wasn't important enough to warrant his presence at 0100 hours. She watched him bustle around without really seeing what he was doing, but she did notice a slight hitch to his step as he turned back from a cupboard to the prep counter. He had to have been injured during the battle. She frowned. He should be resting. She opened her mouth to order him to do just that when he picked up a full plate and a cup and without comment laid them in front of her on the table.

"Close your mouth, eh, Commander," he admonished her lightly. "It's my job."

She snapped her mouth shut as he walked away, leaving her to her toast and… tea? She lifted the cup and breathed in the relaxing aroma of chamomile. Herbal tea. When was the last time she had been able to sit down with a hot cup of tea?

Her stomach rumbled noisily. She hadn't realised she was hungry. "You should be in bed," she told him half-heartedly. He just shrugged, but she let it pass. "Thank you, Chan," she said instead, tucking in.

Garrus appeared sometime between her first and second piece of toast. He took a seat across from her and sat still for a while, watching her. His gaze wasn't accusatory or angry, but even so she found her appetite waning as a result. She set her toast down and met his eyes. "Garrus, I'm sorry," she finally said.

His mandibles twitched and he looked away. "Yeah."

Shepard let out a slow breath. He wasn't angry with _her. _He was just angry.

Despite both Nathan's and Hackett's reassurances, she still couldn't shake the belief that she was personally responsible for how the battle for Palaven turned out. But it was one thing for her to blame herself; if _Garrus_ blamed her for the loss of his world, she wasn't sure if she could have handled that. He was one of her oldest and closest friends. She couldn't stand to lose him, not now.

Not _ever_, but particularly not right now.

"We might be able to go back, later," she offered, knowing even as she said it that it would be impossible but wanting to find some way to give him hope, to straighten the slump in his posture, restore the light to his eyes.

"No. Palaven is lost," he replied firmly, and the resignation in his voice pulled at her heart. "We need to focus on destroying the Reapers once and for all. What's our next move, Shepard?"

She grimaced and took another bite of her toast. It was 1am and she was tired. Bone-tired. She had no idea what they would do next. If it were anyone else she would give them some sort of empty reassurance, but this was _Garrus_. "I don't know yet," she admitted wearily. "It all depends on the Crucible. We need the Catalyst, we need scientists and engineers, manual labour…" She laughed humourlessly. "We need another _fleet_. Any ideas on where we can find all of that?"

"Beats me. Oh, wait, maybe the Council will help us."

A few days ago he would have said that with a twinkle in his eye, and she would have laughed. Now his eyes were dull and she couldn't summon more than a wry smile. "Funny." She shook her head and took another bite. "I'll still have to speak to them, though. It'll be a waste of time, but even now, I can't just ignore them."

Garrus leaned forward on his elbows with a sudden burst of defiant optimism. "They _will_ come around, you know. They have to."

Privately she wasn't sure about that. Politicians liked to turtle up during a crisis. "Whether they do or not, we'll make it work. I am _not _giving up." To her mild surprise, she found herself really meaning that.

Chan quietly brought over a dextro-based beverage of some kind for Garrus, who thanked him, settled back in his chair and took a long drink before speaking again. "Tell me about the Collectors."

Shepard sat back and crossed her arms over her chest as the words _assuming direct control _reverberated through her mind. There was something profoundly unsettling about dealing directly with the ancient malevolent intelligence calling itself Harbinger. It was much easier to be flippant about him when he was billions of kilometres away. "There's not much to tell. There were a lot of them. Enough for me to be certain they've got at least one other base out there, if not more, even if Tali hadn't sent me a message to that effect."

Garrus was just a little too eager as he leaned forward again. "You heard from Tali? How is she?"

"She's fine. Negotiating peace between the geth and the quarians, if you can believe it," Shepard told him with a wistful smile. She missed the young quarian engineer.

Garrus nodded firmly. "I can believe it." The pride in his voice was unmistakable. Shepard detected a hint of something else, too, but now wasn't the time to go into that. "We're going to need to find this other base, aren't we? Take it out. We can't have the Collectors at our backs as well as Cerberus."

"Tali knows where the base is. We just don't have the military strength to go after it at the moment," she explained, taking a sip of her tea. "As for Cerberus… I'm not sure we can take them out at all, to be honest. Not with the timeframe we've got. EDI was quite forthcoming with the structure of the organisation after her shackles were removed. They have cells everywhere." She shook her head. "It won't be as simple as finding their base of operations and blowing it up. And we can't afford to be running around all over the galaxy exterminating each individual cell."

Garrus cocked his head to the side and tipped his head meaningfully in her direction. "But what about your…"

She grimaced, shifting in her seat, suddenly certain she could feel the metal weave holding the bone in her upper right arm in place, or the body temperature regulator stored in her lower left hip. "Chakwas is working on it. I trust her."

Garrus reached across the table and laid his hand on her arm in what she supposed was his approximation of human comforting behaviour. She appreciated the thought. "You'll be all right, Shepard. Karin is the best at what she does. She'll figure it out."

She laid her hand on his briefly. "Thanks, Garrus."

The turian sat back and drained his cup then got to his feet. "I'm going to try and get some sleep. Don't stay up too late."

"I won't," she promised. She watched him leave, knowing full well that was a lie. They were due to arrive at the Citadel in a few hours. She doubted she would be able to sleep at all before then.

She glanced over at the medbay. She couldn't see Nathan from where she sat, but she knew exactly where his bed was relative to the others. She stared at the viewport, the doubts Hackett had sown stewing uncomfortably in the back of her mind.

* * *

They reached the Citadel some time before 0400 ship time. Nathan had been alternating between feeling nauseous and feeling restless, like he had to get up and do something – a strange and disconcerting dichotomy – which meant he hadn't been able to sleep for more than a couple of hours. On top of that he found himself continually going back over and over the battle, wondering if removing his armour had been a good idea after all.

He had gotten sick far quicker than he or Garrus had predicted. He could have been completely incapacitated, and if that had happened Kasumi wouldn't have been able to drag him out of there by herself. He would have insisted she leave him, of course, and then he would have been stuck there trying to fight off Reapers while barely able to function. If that had happened, he would be a shambling husk right now, instead of tossing and turning in a bed in the medbay.

It was a terrifying thought, all the more so because it had almost actually happened. It kept him awake, encroaching restlessly into the corners of his mind. He was awake when they arrived at the Citadel, listening to the ship's engines as they wound down to a muted background hum. After what seemed like hours of silence, however, he managed to drift off.

A short time later he was woken up again by hushed muttering and shuffling from the other side of the medbay, and through a haze of sleep he realised Chief Engineer Adams must have passed away during the night. Shepard was on hand to watch over him as the body was respectfully removed, its final destination the shuttle bay and a waiting coffin. Nathan had never really spoken to the man, but he knew he had been on the SR-1 with Shepard. He watched the mini-procession, hoping the engineer had been at peace at the end.

Shepard saw Nathan watching but only spared a quick glance in his direction. It was fleeting, but something about that glance unnerved him, and it had nothing to do with poor Adams.

He shook it off and tried to snatch another hour of rest. Jack seemed be having no problems sleeping in the bed next to his. Her light snoring filled the quiet room, keeping him on the brink of sleep but preventing the final plunge. When Dr Chakwas arrived later in the morning, he finally gave up and blearily watched her putter around the medbay instead.

By virtue of being the only patient who was awake, she began her rounds with him. "Good morning, Lieutenant," she greeted him with the soothing, practical bedside manner he had grown to appreciate. "Did you get any sleep?"

He made a face and pushed himself up into a sitting position. "A little," he said diplomatically.

She chuckled as she brought out a portable medical scanner and played it over his limbs. "You're doing quite well, then. A full medbay is not the easiest place to get any rest."

"At least I'm not back on Palaven, dodging Reapers while trying not to throw up all over the place." Nathan joked, grimacing as what he had just said dawned on him. It had started as an offhand quip and turned into something completely different. He had been so close to being in that exact position…

Chakwas laid a hand on his shoulder, empathetic, and neatly interrupting his thoughts. "The Commander would never have left you down there, Briggs. Don't worry, you'll be back out there with her soon."

Would she have left him, though? He hoped that if she had to, she would… but on the other hand, he _really _hoped she wouldn't. "Where is the Commander?" he asked.

The doctor gave him a knowing look as she focussed her scanner on his abdomen and chest. "She has a meeting with the Council, I believe. Garrus and Samara are with her. Not that it should matter to you, Lieutenant. You will not be leaving this medbay today."

He sighed in frustration. A whole day of lying here with no company but his own thoughts? "I think I'm feeling a lot better, doc—"

"I'm glad to hear that, but it doesn't change anything," Chakwas interrupted him, and there was no arguing with that tone. "You took a very high dose of radiation on Palaven. You're going to stay put today. I need to make sure that radiation is completely eradicated from your body."

He grumbled to himself as the doctor snapped her scanner closed and reattached it to her belt, starting work on an IV. Stuck in the medbay was the last place he wanted to be right now, but he couldn't deny that when he said he was feeling better he was mostly lying through his teeth. He sat back against the bed, resigned to his fate.

* * *

Shepard felt an overwhelming sense of déjà vu as she stepped into the inner council chambers. The balconies were empty of spectators and the immediate vicinity of the supplicants' platform was empty of personnel. It felt just like when she had arrived back on the Citadel after Virmire, unaware Udina had arranged for her ship to be impounded. She was even with a turian and an asari, although the asari was not Liara this time. She had brought Garrus and Samara with her in the hopes the sight of a human, a highly-ranked turian and a well-respected asari Justicar working together as one team would sway the Council in her favour just a little. A symbol of interspecies cooperation. Perhaps it was a far-fetched hope, but anything was worth a try.

The niggling feeling that something was… off, was there again too, just like after Virmire.

"It really is quite beautiful in here," Samara commented as the three of them walked through the tree-lined atrium. "The images I have seen do not do it justice."

"You've never been in here before?" Shepard asked, surprised. She had thought that as a Justicar Samara would regularly speak with at least the asari councillor, if not the other three.

"I have not," Samara confirmed. "I have had no reason to be. I do not answer to Councillor Tevos, nor any other authority but the Code."

Wait—the Code… back on Illium Samara had… Shepard stopped abruptly, reaching out to take the Justicar's elbow. "I never released you from that oath you took back on Illium. You're not here because you still feel beholden to me personally, are you? Because if that's the case, you need to know that I absolutely do not consider you to still be under that oath."

Samara gave her an indulgent smile, like a parent explaining something to an inquisitive child. "No, Shepard, I was released from my oath after our mission was complete. That is not why I follow you now. The Code demands that in times of great conflict I be at the place where I am most needed. Where I will do the most good. That place is here, at your side. If that should change, I will leave."

Shepard nodded, relieved. "Good. Although I would much prefer it if you didn't leave, Samara. I need the best. You are certainly that… and a good friend."

A faint smile gentled the elegant asari's features. "I do not anticipate being required to leave any time in the near future, Shepard. Nor do I wish to."

"Well, I'm glad to have you here too," Garrus commented, sounding mildly amused at the impromptu affectionate exchange. "I think they're ready for us now." He nodded toward the now-empty platform Shepard had become so familiar with.

Feeling a little sheepish, she shook herself and strode forward, Samara and Garrus falling back to either shoulder. She had decided to wear her dress blues again, as she had on Tuchanka, but less for diplomatic requirements this time than a desire to appear both respectful and less intimidating than if she was in full armour. She took off her cap as she approached and assumed a relaxed parade rest stance at the end of the platform, clasping the cap behind her back in both hands. She nodded politely toward the four figures on the dais before her. "Councillors."

Udina eyed her companions with distaste, no doubt because they were not human, although he directed equal disdain toward her as well. Tevos appeared haughty and aloof as always, and Valern was difficult to read from beneath his hooded robe. Sparatus was the only one who appeared even mildly welcoming, which was a pleasant change to the usual reception she got from him.

"Commander Shepard," he began, his tone a mix of gratitude, sorrow and grudging respect. "Your actions on Palaven were… commendable. It is regrettable that the outcome of that battle was not more favourable."

It was just _barely _an expression of gratitude, as well as one of sorrow. For Sparatus it was the equivalent of a fervent thank you. It almost managed to bring all the feelings she had managed to suppress rushing back, but she sternly swallowed them back down where they belonged. "I wish I had been able to save Palaven, Councillor. I'm sorry."

Udina spoke up. "I have read the reports, Commander. You performed as well as you could have, given the situation. The losses were terrible, of course, but you did your best. You are to be congratulated." He sounded entirely insincere, but that didn't surprise Shepard. No doubt she would get a full dressing down later on in his office, where he didn't have to maintain a façade of support for the only human Spectre before his fellow Councillors.

"The attack was your idea, was it not, Commander?" Valern asked. He didn't wait for her to reply, but continued, "While I agree you managed to salvage as much as anyone could have been expected to out of such a situation, the whole plan really was ill-advised at best."

"I am forced to concur," Tevos added, not to be left out. "It was very risky. I know you have a reputation for being able to pull off miracles, Commander Shepard, but Admiral Hackett should have vetoed this as soon as you brought it to him."

"With all due respect, Councillors, if the attack had succeeded it would have put us in a far more advantageous position with the Reapers than we were before, and based on the knowledge we had, it _did _have a good chance of succeeding," Shepard interjected, unwilling to let them get on too much of a roll. She had more or less been expecting the reactions she got, and as much as Tevos' and Valern's condemnations rubbed roughly against a sore spot, she had to get them to focus on their next move against the Reapers rather than dwelling on the past. "It was worth the risk."

"Shepard is right," Garrus spoke up, surprising her for a moment until she remembered that with the significant rank he now held in the Hierarchy his opinion carried somewhat more weight with the Council than it used to. "All our planning showed that we had a reasonable chance of winning. If we had won, the turian fleet would have been free to move against the Reapers on Earth, or elsewhere. Regardless, the blow we would have dealt them would have been great enough to justify almost any losses we suffered along the way."

"Palaven is going to weigh on my mind for a long time," Shepard admitted quietly, "but we need to move forward. The Reapers won't stop to let us grieve." She paused, meeting each Councillor's eyes in turn. "Admiral Hackett has informed me that the Crucible is only fifteen percent complete. We need scientists and engineers to complete it, and ships and personnel to guard it. The galaxy needs to band together to get this done."

"I don't think you're in any position to lecture us on what we need to do, Commander," Tevos objected.

Annoyed, Shepard opened her mouth to respond, but stopped when Samara raised a hand in placation. "Councillor, if I may. I do not believe the Commander intended to lecture you. She merely states a plain fact."

Tevos went surprisingly quiet at that. In all the time Shepard had been dealing with Tevos she had never seen her look quite so… deferential. She was surprised to see the reverence in which the councillor clearly held the Justicar.

"Nevertheless, we have already discussed this," Valern stated, eyes moving from Samara to Tevos. He seemed entirely unaffected by Samara's presence. "We cannot provide resources when doing so would leave our own worlds in danger."

"The situation has since changed, Valern," Sparatus argued. "The turian military has been dealt a severe blow. We cannot hope to contribute any kind of meaningful force, be it offensive or defensive. The humans are currently in the impossible position of having to build and defend the Crucible by themselves."

"We can't even be sure the Crucible will do anything useful!" Tevos was getting increasingly agitated, despite Samara's brief intervention.

"The Protheans poured all their resources into building it," Shepard reminded her. "They thought it was worth it."

Valern shook his head in consternation. "Again, we have gone over this before. They did not possess the Catalyst and we have no idea what it is. The Crucible will not work without this crucial component. Until it is found, building the Crucible is a waste of precious resources. I cannot commit my people to such a useless endeavour."

Shepard sighed in frustration, fighting the urge to pace. "If I can find the Catalyst, will you agree to commit your forces?" she demanded.

Valern huffed, clearly irritated at being put on the spot. "No. Even if you did manage to find it, we don't know what the Crucible _does. _If you can find that out, _and _find the Catalyst, _and _guarantee that building it will enable us to defeat the Reapers, _then _I will agree to provide the resources you require."

The way the salarian constantly referred to the battle against the Reapers as being something _she _wanted, as if he would be doing her a favour by committing salarian forces to it, was beginning to grate on her nerves. She clenched her teeth for a moment, then with some effort forced herself to relax. "I'll hold you to that, Councillor." She turned her attention to the asari standing beside him on the podium. "Councillor Tevos?"

"Again I must agree with Valern. It just isn't prudent to throw all our hopes behind something so unproven. No, the matriarchs have decided to shore up our defences on Thessia, and I support them in their decision. Now that we have seen the devastation wrought on Earth and on Palaven… we must look to our own worlds."

Samara spoke up again. "Do you believe the asari alone can withstand the might of a full-scale assault by Reaper forces?" she asked calmly.

"I do not know," Tevos admitted uncomfortably. "But unlike Earth and Palaven, we are pre-warned and prepared."

"The Protheans fought the Reapers for hundreds of years until they were completely wiped out," Samara continued in that same calm, reasonable tone. "Do you not think that at some point, they thought they were also pre-warned and prepared?"

The asari councillor seemed a little off-balance when she replied. "Justicar, I respect your order greatly, and yourself personally. However, I must continue to disagree on this matter. We have little information on the Prothean war with the Reapers. Perhaps some were able to hold out for a time. We asari are not defenceless, and we do have… contingency plans. We will not be wiped out."

Shepard sighed to herself. She had known this meeting would be a lost cause, but she had to try anyway. And _keep_ trying. Right now the Councillors were acting out of an instinctual need to protect their own species above all others, but as soon as the Reapers arrived on their doorsteps they would be crying out for help, just as she was now.

"I am sorry, Commander," Sparatus concluded regretfully. "It seems the Council will be unable to provide the resources you request at this time."

It took a supreme effort but she thanked the Council politely for their time. As they filed out, Udina quickly added, "Shepard, come and see me in my office." Feeling a flash of mild irritation that he was treating her as though he had the right to order her to be anywhere – then another as she belatedly realised that as she was still a Council Spectre he actually did have that right – she made her way back down from the platform.

The feeling that something wasn't quite right had not gone away, but nothing had happened. Reluctantly, she pushed it aside. Her instincts were usually spot on about this sort of thing, but… She shook her head irritably. She was distracted and annoyed. That could easily account for any negative feelings she was having.

"Well, that went about as well as expected," Garrus commented as they walked. Shepard grunted.

"They will come around," Samara said decisively.

"I'm glad you think so," Shepard snapped, then immediately regretted her tone. "Sorry. I think you're right, Samara, but they won't see sense until it's too late. They'll wait until they're so beleaguered that they _need_ to ask for help to save their own people."

"I don't like it," Garrus said, "but I do understand where they're coming from. They're scared, and they don't want to leave their people defenceless."

"I _know_, Garrus, but they don't realise that having a few ships, or even a fleet, stationed at their homeworlds is not going to make a bit of difference against the Reapers," Shepard insisted angrily.

Garrus raised his hands. "What's the human expression? You're talking to the choir?"

She sighed. "Preaching to the choir. I know, Garrus. I'm just frustrated."

"You have been fighting almost nonstop since escaping Earth, Shepard. Perhaps it is time to take a break?" Samara suggested gently.

Shepard stared at her. "Take a break? Are you serious? Do you have any idea how many people die on Earth each day it remains under Reaper control? I received a report on the numbers a little while ago, Samara. It's in the _millions_. Every day! I can't just take a break!"

The Justicar nodded, saddened by the statistic but otherwise unperturbed. "I understand your reluctance. However, I believe you are well aware of the detrimental effects constant fighting can have on an organic mind. Perhaps you should reconsider for the sake of your crew, if not for yourself?"

The three of them stepped into the elevator leading down to the Presidium. "Samara has a point," Garrus agreed. "The _Normandy_ will be in dry-dock for a couple of days at least. Give the crew shore leave. And try to take some yourself."

Shepard glared at the elevator door as it rose, furious and frustrated and feeling… helpless. They were both right. The _Normandy_ needed extensive repairs and wouldn't be going anywhere for a few days. The crew had just been through what was likely the largest battle many of them had ever seen, and they needed time to come to terms with that and shake it off as much as they could before heading out again.

She absently picked at the sleeve of her dress blues, wishing she could switch them for the hard, comforting confines of her armour and the weight of her rifles on her back. She felt out of place, with all her instincts screaming at her to get back out there and _do _something. But for the moment they were stuck here. Even if the _Normandy_ could fly, the reality was that she still had no idea what their next move should be.

"Fine," she finally agreed. Tapping her omnitool, she brought up a connection to the _Normandy_ via her in-ear comm. "EDI."

"_Yes, Commander?"_

"Advise all non-essential personnel: liberty is approved until further notice."

"_Right away, Commander."_

"Thank you, EDI, that's all. Shepard out." She glanced from Garrus to Samara as they stepped out of the elevator. "Are the two of you happy now?"

The corner of Samara's mouth twitched upward just enough to be noticeable. "I am quite satisfied."

"Ecstatic," Garrus added. "You know, now that we're officially on shore leave, I know this fantastic little eatery that serves both dextro and levo meals down in Shalta ward. Are either of you hungry?"

Shepard shook her head. "You two go on. I need to meet with Udina."

Samara stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Shepard. Please come and join us when you are finished with Councillor Udina."

Shepard was reminded fleetingly of the tone Dr Chakwas used when she was giving medical instructions that she expected to be followed, _or else. _She sighed and nodded. "All right. I will."

* * *

"Ha! Take that, bitch!" Jack exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air, her omnitool display scattering as she waved it around.

Nathan groaned and flopped back against his pillow, closing his eyes against the red, pulsing death animation now playing on his own display. "How did you _do _that?" he demanded, opening his eyes again and glaring at her in consternation.

"Pure skill, Briggs, nothing but pure skill," Jack crowed.

He shook his head. "Screw that, you must have cheesed it somehow. No way could a volus adept take a krogan vanguard."

Jack grinned at him, all teeth. "Aw, you're just pissed because you fucked up that last biotic charge."

"I swear I pressed the goddamn key in time, it's not my fault the game is so laggy!"

"Yeah, that's right, blame the lag—"

"Uh… what's going on here?"

Nathan almost jumped in surprise at Shepard's voice coming from the doorway into the medbay. He hadn't noticed her enter.

Jack's smile only grew at the Commander's confusion. "Hey, Shepard," she greeted her. "I just finished kicking your boyfriend's ass at Galaxy of Warfare." Nathan winced at her use of the term 'boyfriend', but he supposed it didn't matter now he and Jack were the only occupants of the medbay. All the mildly-injured crewmembers had been discharged, the more seriously hurt sent to one of the Citadel's hospitals.

Shepard frowned in confusion, coming over to stand between the two beds. She lifted Nathan's wrist and peered at the screen of his omnitool. "Galaxy of… what?"

He cleared his throat, embarrassed at being caught playing what was widely considered to be a kid's game… although a very well-crafted one. "Galaxy of Warfare," he repeated. "It's a spin-off from Galaxy of Fantasy. You choose a race and a set of powers and pit your character against other…" he trailed off at her dubious look, feeling his cheeks warm.

"I get the general idea." Shepard's response was very dry, but at least she sounded mildly amused. "Seems like the two of you are feeling better, then?"

"I'm all better and ready to kick some more Reaper ass, Shepard," Jack told her, jumping down from her bed. She landed neatly, taking her weight equally on both legs though her injured one was still lightly bandaged. "The doc discharged me earlier. I'm just keeping Briggs here company while he mopes around waiting for you."

Nathan felt his face grow even warmer. "I am not moping," he protested, glaring at Jack and ignoring Shepard's amusement.

"Sure you're not," she teased him. "Anyway, he's all yours now, Shepard. I've got things to do."

As Jack sauntered out, Nathan shifted to one side of his bed and beckoned Shepard over, keen to be close to her now she was here. But she hesitated for a moment, smile fading slightly, and Nathan got the distinct sense that something was wrong.

She seemed to let whatever it was go after a moment, however, carefully climbing up on the bed beside him. She leaned into the arm he slipped around her, but right away he could tell she was a bit stiff. "How was the Citadel?" he asked uncertainly.

"Exhausting," she murmured, staring off into the distance. "The Council was about as helpful as usual, and then Udina wanted his own debrief in his office afterward. He kept me for a couple of hours at least, going over and over the same damn things, and there was nothing I could do about it. He's a Councillor and I'm a Spectre. He's my goddamn boss." She chuckled humourlessly. "That has to be the worst thing about him taking over from Anderson as Human Councillor. I have to follow his orders now."

The casual way in which Shepard referred to meeting with the four most highly-placed individuals in the galaxy was disconcerting. The one on one time she often had with Admiral Hackett was a strange enough thing to get used to, let alone a private meeting with the Citadel Council, the vaunted representatives of the most powerful races, the people responsible for making decisions that affected the whole galaxy.

He shifted uncomfortably on the bed. It was a poignant reminder of just who exactly he had started a relationship with. For a treacherous moment he wondered why on Earth she had decided to be with _him, _and how long it would take her to realise she had made a mistake.

"Tomorrow will be busy too," Shepard was saying, oblivious to his discomfort. She seemed very distracted. "I need to meet with a few people, head to the Alliance Offices to wade through whatever bureaucratic bullshit needs to be waded through, and that alone will probably take most of the afternoon. Garrus and Samara tell me I should take shore leave, but I'm not sure how I'm supposed to fit it in anywhere. I was supposed to meet with them after Udina, but he kept me there for so long it was too late." She looked up at him. The bags under her eyes were horrendous. "Will you be able to leave the medbay by tomorrow?"

"I hope so," he replied. "I haven't felt nauseous in hours. Maybe after a good night's sleep Dr Chakwas will clear me."

"Good. I want you with me."

"Hmm. I don't know." He poked her gently in the side, right where he knew she was ticklish, eliciting a surprising but highly amusing noise of protest and an adorably indignant glare. "Aren't I supposed to be on shore leave? Following my CO around while she runs errands doesn't sound like shore leave. Shouldn't I be bar-hopping with the crew all day?"

"I'm not sure Chakwas would approve," she grumbled, but there was no real irritation behind it. She grabbed his hand, which he had allowed to hover dangerously close to that ticklish spot. "Stop that!"

While she was distracted with one hand, he reached across with the other and let his fingers dance over the same spot on her other hip. She shrieked – actually _shrieked – _in a very un-Shepard-like manner, then clamped her lips together, horrified. He couldn't help a gleeful chuckle. In response she promptly twisted around and punched him in the shoulder.

He groaned, wincing. She had pulled the punch, but goddamn, it had still hurt. "Ouch, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he pleaded, grabbing her hand and entwining his fingers with hers. He ducked his head and kissed her to make up for it.

When she pulled away, she was smiling a little again, and relaxing back into his arm. "So, will you come with me?" she asked.

"Are you asking me out on a date, Commander?" he teased her.

She raised her eyebrows. "A date? I'm not sure what your idea of a date is, but mine is a little different to traipsing around the Citadel all day and sure doesn't involve the Alliance offices."

He shrugged. "Mine just involves spending a lot of time with you," he told her truthfully.

Something flickered across her face then, but he wasn't quite quick enough to catch it. It reminded him of that look she had given him earlier that morning. But she didn't say anything, instead settling back in against his side. He opened his mouth to make some sort of wisecrack to clear the silence, but closed it. Something was clearly on her mind. "Shepard," he began instead.

She interrupted before he could finish his sentence. "Show me that game you were playing."

He got the hint – whatever was on her mind, she clearly didn't want to talk about it. She seemed to be busy trying to work through it herself. His instincts were telling him not to push her, and for once he was inclined to listen to them.

He brought up his omnitool and activated the display, holding it up between them so she could see. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her in close so he could reach the holographic controls. "So this is my krogan vanguard…" he stopped, swallowing what he was going to say. _Krogan vanguard, right after Wrex…? Idiot! _"Uh. I'll create a new character."

Shepard fidgeted beside him, but laid a reassuring hand on his thigh. "It's all right," she told him.

Yeah right it was. He brought up the character creation screen anyway. No krogan. Something completely different… He smiled. "Okay, but I have an idea now. I think I'll create a human soldier. I'll give her a Mattock and a Widow, add some incendiary ammo and some frag grenades and maybe pick the adrenaline rush power-up..."

Shepard snorted. "That sounds familiar," she muttered drily.

"That's the whole point," he explained, grinning at her, feeling inordinately pleased with his brilliant plan. "I've got the best soldier in the galaxy right here in my arms. You're like a living, breathing cheat code. I can't lose."

She grumbled to herself, but that little amused smile was back, and she was nestling into his side a bit more now. Planting a quick kiss on her cheek he fired up the game and dived straight in.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter Thirty-Five**

Nathan stepped out of the _Normandy's_ airlock, taking a grateful breath of fresh air, ears immediately filled by a cacophony of clanging metal and whining high-powered tools. He had only been stuck on board for a day longer than the rest of the crew but it had felt like forever. Workers in bright orange high-visibility overalls were harnessed and clamped to the ship's hull with specially designed mag-boots, yelling and talking shit with one another as they worked. No one took any notice of him, but as soon as Shepard emerged behind him he was sure the sounds died down a little. Some had even stopped work to stare.

"I can't believe we lost that last round," she was saying, taking no notice of the workers' attention. "That frag grenade should have finished the other guy easily – what was his name, Max Carriage? What sort of a name is that, anyway?" She made a face. "I don't get how he managed to dodge it. There's no way anyone could have dodged that in real life."

They had played another few rounds of Galaxy of Warfare that morning while waiting for Dr Chakwas to clear him to leave. Nathan had to wonder what sort of monster he had unleashed by introducing her to the game. If he was honest, he got tired of it pretty quickly, but after a complete lack of enthusiasm initially, Shepard now couldn't seem to get enough of it. That surprised him; normally she had very little interest in anything to do with tech.

"MaxCarnage69," he corrected her. "The developers bent some of the mechanics a bit for better gameplay," he explained as they walked down the gantry leading to the docking bay reception area. "And you totally could have dodged that frag in real life."

"I doubt it," she replied absently. "Well, maybe if I had seen it coming," she amended. "But what's the point of bending mechanics like that just to make for better gameplay? Doesn't it have less impact if it's less realistic?"

They stepped through the outer door into the climate-controlled reception area. The two bored-looking C-Sec guards saluted Shepard, and she waved back as they passed through the checkpoint toward the transit station and the elevator.

"Yes, but if they make it too realistic it'll start getting more difficult and not enough people will be able to successfully play it," he argued. "Which would make it very difficult to get enough people in a given location to play. They need a certain number of players in each region to justify expenses like host servers, VI umpires, bug fixes and so on."

Shepard called a cab from the nearby terminal and lounged back against the wall across from him as they waited. "A lot more thought goes into games like that than I realised," she mused. "It's almost tactical. There are so many things to consider. Where do you spend money to generate the highest revenue while at the same time achieving the best outcomes for your players? Where do you choose to _not _spend a lot of money and risk the wrath of your players?"

Yeah, he had created a monster. "Maybe you should start your own game development company when the war is over," he suggested, only half-joking.

She snorted and rolled her eyes at him. "Ha ha, very funny."

He grinned. "So, where are we headed first?" he asked, deliberately changing the subject.

She didn't seem to mind. "Liara's offices," she decided. "Then Huerta Memorial to see Kaidan and the other injured crew."

Nathan grimaced. "Major Alenko? You keen on being called a traitor again?"

Shepard sighed at that. "He was with me on the SR-1, Nathan. From the very beginning. We've known each other for a long time. We've been friends and more, even if that's over with now. I want to make sure he's okay, even if he still insists on not trusting me."

Nathan shook his head, tamping down on a pang of jealousy. He knew it was completely unwarranted, but still… that time on the SR-1 was something he could never share with her. He dropped the subject. "Fair enough."

The VI-driven cab arrived, and the two of them piled in. He consciously stuck to his side of the rear seat, wary that anyone could be watching now they were away from the safety of the _Normandy_. The last thing he wanted was for a reporter to get a snap of the two of them in a compromising position. Shepard seemed to have the same idea, settling in on her side.

The cab ride was quick. Soon they were disembarking into a decidedly up-market area of Bachjret Ward, stepping out onto the edge of a wide plaza. The décor was chic and modern and all the surfaces gleamed. "Pretty here," he remarked.

"Yeah." Shepard glanced down at her Alliance BDUs. "I'm feeling a bit out of place."

She had a point. The plaza was relatively busy, but despite the large number of patrons they did seem to be the only Alliance personnel in the area. Nathan felt like a bright blue eyesore amongst all the well-dressed citizens, neatly maintained neutrally-coloured gardens and artful sculptures. "I guess soldiers would rather hang out somewhere with more places to eat."

"Or more bars." She muttered wryly as she brought out her omnitool, consulting a map. "This way."

She guided them through wide open manicured courtyards into what looked to be a corporate district, dodging around people who didn't take nearly enough notice of the uniformed pair to realise one of them was Commander Shepard. She stopped at the corner of an avenue lined with artificially-made but artfully designed foliage and picked out one of the nearby buildings. "That looks like it," she murmured. It was shorter than other nearby skyscrapers, but still a good thirty storeys tall. The façade was modern, clean white and silver, possibly asari design, although he was certainly no expert.

They stepped into the foyer and were greeted by a short, stout asari concierge amidst more pleasant modern décor. "Greetings, Commander Shepard!" she exclaimed in the calculatedly pleasant tone of professional customer service officers everywhere. For a moment Nathan was reminded of Avina, the Citadel info-VI. The asari spared only a brief glance for him. "And companion. Dr T'Soni has left standing orders for you to be admitted at once. Please, follow me."

Shepard and Nathan followed the asari into one of the nearby elevators, where they descended rapidly to the penthouse. When they stepped off the elevator, Liara was waiting to greet them.

"Shepard!" she exclaimed happily, reaching out and pulling the Commander into a tight embrace. "I was so worried after I heard about what happened at Palaven."

"Liara, it's good to see you," Shepard replied warmly, returning the embrace. "You seem to have done well for yourself," she added, carefully dodging anything to do with Palaven. Nathan grimaced internally. She had to still be feeling it.

Liara smiled proudly and beckoned them inside. "I am very satisfied with the place. Please, come inside, I'll show you around." She ushered them through the tiny foyer, stopping to offer Nathan a hand when he drew near. "Lieutenant Briggs, I'm glad to see you as well."

Nathan took her hand and shook, surprised she remembered his name. "Thank you, ma'am," he replied. Her grip was deceptively strong, and there was something about her tone that he couldn't quite decipher. "It's good to see you again."

Liara glanced from Shepard, who was admiring the view from a wide vista of floor-to-ceiling windows, back to Nathan, and gave him a knowing look. "Please, call me Liara," she offered.

"Sure, Liara," he said a little awkwardly. That knowing look again… he had seen the same on Dr Chakwas, as well as most of the rest of the ground team, although theirs had been a little more… pleasant, where Liara's was decidedly neutral. Like Chakwas and the ground team, Liara knew he and Shepard were together. He had to wonder just how obvious they were being without realising it.

As Liara gave them a tour of her lodgings-slash-offices and chatted about inconsequential things with her attention firmly on Shepard, Nathan trailed behind. He was impressed by the dual nature of the place. On one hand it was undeniably beautiful, suitable for hosting dinner parties with very wealthy and important people, but on the other it was also very easily defensible and probably full of hidden weaponry. He had spotted a number of cleverly concealed security devices, and surmised there were plenty more he couldn't see. He also noted that the second storey, which overlooked the open dining and lounge area, provided plenty of places for a sniper – or a talented biotic with a heavy pistol – to hide while raining destruction down below. It was a bit beyond what a scientist would require in terms of protection. He wondered what exactly Liara did for a living.

Liara ended the tour in a well-appointed sitting room, settling gracefully onto one of the chaise lounges and gesturing for them to make themselves comfortable. For some reason Nathan found himself feeling inordinately nervous around her, with her huge, limpid blue eyes and deceptively unassuming mannerisms. He felt as though there was a lot she wasn't revealing. To be safe, Nathan followed Shepard's lead and sat beside her on a long, plush couch.

"As happy as I am to see you, Liara, I did have an ulterior motive for coming to visit," Shepard admitted, leaning forward and bracing her elbows on her knees.

"I heard the Council refused to listen to you again," Liara noted.

Shepard nodded. "Yes, and I can't afford to just ignore or circumvent them despite how much I'd _like_ to do that. We need the asari and salarians more than ever now the krogan and turians are effectively out of the equation. I need to find some way to convince them to join the fight."

Liara tapped a carefully manicured fingernail thoughtfully against the arm of the couch. "And you need my help to do that. Of course, Shepard, anything you need. I can probably find a few secrets or even some effective threats for you to use."

Nathan blinked at Liara, then glanced at Shepard, surprised. Threats and blackmail didn't sound like the kinds of things she would do.

Shepard met his eyes for a brief moment, seeming to sense his confusion, then almost guiltily looked away. "I didn't mean it like that. But… if you think it would work, I'll do it."

It was his turn to frown. _What?_

Liara shook her head. "No, I don't think it would be enough."

Shepard fidgeted, then leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest. "Yeah, neither do I. Look, right now I can hardly blame them for being reluctant to join the fight. This galactic coalition of ours isn't much to look at. All we have is what remains of the human and turian fleets and the bare bones of an unproven Reaper-killing weapon. We need… more. More troops and ships, more credits, more support."

Fundraising and PR… these were things he hadn't been able to avoid learning about while living with his parents. "We need some wins," he spoke up, glad Shepard had moved away from the threats and blackmail. "And some good publicity."

Liara raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure you want to advertise your movements to the Reapers _quite _so obviously."

"No, he might have a point," Shepard mused aloud. "We wouldn't broadcast anything about our plans or numbers of course, but we do need to get the general public involved somehow. The Councillors are politicians first and foremost. The more public opinion is with us, the more likely they'll be to join us. Hackett told me something very similar after Menae. We can get Alliance PR on it, and maybe I can speak to someone like Emily Wong about a few exclusives. She's with ANN now, right?"

"Yes, I believe so. All right, I see your point," Liara conceded. "I'll try and track her down for you."

Shepard stood up and began to pace. "Nathan is right about needing to get some wins, too. We need something to publicise. I'm going to need troops, ships and credits for that, more than the Alliance can spare right now. That's where I really need your help, Liara."

Liara sat back, thinking. "Hmm. I might have an idea for that. Did you know Aria T'Loak has taken up residence on the Citadel?" she asked.

Shepard stopped, cocking her head to the side in curiosity. "I didn't, but I wouldn't have thought her the sort of person to be hiding a fleet in her back pocket. She always seemed more… hands on to me."

Liara smoothed her long skirt down over her knees. "You are right, she does not have a hidden fleet of her own. But she may be able to facilitate arrangements with certain mercenary groups and private armies."

Mercs? Private armies? Nathan had never found them to be anything but trouble. "Are we that desperate already?" he asked dubiously.

"We're certainly not in any position to be choosy," Shepard told him mildly, starting to pace again.

He realised that may have come off as a little elitist. "I didn't mean it like that. Mercs and professional soldiers are selfish, they go where the credits are. If the money runs out, they'll leave. Mid-battle, if necessary."

"Aria owes me a favour or two. She may be able to… motivate them beyond credits," Shepard explained. She nodded to herself. "I'll go and see her."

"Good," Liara said. "Once you have your troops, I may have a win for you as well."

Shepard raised her eyebrows. "All neatly packaged and ready?"

Liara gave her a withering look. "Not quite, but it may meet your needs." She sat forward, knees together, hands gracefully placed on her lap. "It seems the volus homeworld, Irune, is being blockaded by the Reapers. They estimate a full-scale invasion will take place within days and have been pleading for support from the Council. Normally the turian fleet would respond, but, well…" Liara shrugged awkwardly, giving Shepard a sympathetic look. Nathan immediately spotted Shepard's irritation at that look, at how close it came to pity, but she hid it well. Liara didn't notice. "And of course, their pleading has fallen on deaf ears. If you were to drive the Reapers off their world, you would gain volus support."

"Maybe some of the other non-Council races too. That'd be a big win," Nathan murmured in agreement.

Shepard frowned. "It would, if we could pull it off. What makes you think we can drive them off Irune, when we couldn't do it on Palaven?" she asked Liara.

"The volus are not fighters," she explained. "Their military strength, what little there is of that, is based in space and has long since had to flee. For this reason, the Reapers are unlikely to deploy their more elite troops, nor will they send any Sovereign-class ships to attack such a weak target. They will reduce their own strength accordingly, which gives you an opportunity."

"Maybe, but even if they don't send any Sovereign-class ships, the destroyers still pack a punch. We have no way of taking them out without a much larger fleet." Shepard shook her head. "Thanks, Liara, but I don't think it'll work. Got anything else?"

Liara pursed her lips and shifted in her seat. "There is one last thing. It's not precisely a pre-packaged win, but I've been devoting considerable resources to locating information on the Catalyst and I think I may have found something. Archaeologists on Eden Prime have been filling the comm buoys with chatter lately, so naturally I listened in. It seems they may have found the remains of an old Prothean facility of some kind."

"You think the Catalyst is there?" Shepard asked, eyes bright with hope.

Liara shook her head ruefully. "No. However, I do think the key to finding it may be. The facility is very similar to the archives we encountered on Ilos."

"The archives on Ilos were _huge._ You're telling me another Ilos was right beneath our feet the whole time we were fighting geth on Eden Prime?"

"The Protheans appear quite skilled at hiding their important facilities."

"An aptitude born of necessity," Nathan muttered.

Shepard was smiling. "This is good information, Liara. I'll head to Eden Prime as soon as I can sort out a ship to get me there."

"Excellent. The scientists will be thrilled to see someone who can translate Prothean so readily."

Shepard held out her hands to Liara, who stood up to take them. "I need to get going. I have a lot to do now, thanks to you."

"Anything I can do to help, Shepard," Liara replied warmly. "I'll keep my ear out and let you know if I find any more information. Be careful out there." She let Shepard's hands go and to Nathan's surprise, grasped his next. Her grip was tight, however, and he could have sworn he felt nails digging into his palm just a little. "You too, Lieutenant Briggs. Be careful, and look out for Shepard. The galaxy needs her."

As soon as they were safely in the street outside the building, he rubbed his palms with his thumbs. If he had to put a name to Liara's tone just then he would have called it an ever-so-subtle warning. That last farewell had clearly been intended to look friendly on the outside while hiding a veiled threat. "She's a little protective," he commented, choosing his words carefully.

Shepard cast him an apologetic look as they walked. "Liara can be a bit intense. But she's a good friend, and a very good information broker."

Privately Nathan thought it went a bit beyond 'intense'. Liara seemed very protective of Shepard, almost as though she thought she had some sort of a… claim on her. It had his hackles rising automatically.

Then again, maybe that just had something to do with how surprised he was at Shepard for considering threats, bribery and joining forces with a known underworld figure. Maybe his hackles were already up. What the hell was she thinking, anyway? "Aria T'Loak is the crime boss you dealt with on Omega, right?"

"Right," Shepard confirmed, blithely unaware of his feelings on the matter, clearly already thinking a few steps ahead. "She'll probably already be holding court in the best nightclub on the Citadel, knowing her. Any idea which club that might be?"

"Probably Purgatory. It was constantly packed the last time I was on the Citadel. Half the time my squad and I couldn't even get in." He regarded her with a scowl. "So you're really prepared to hire mercenaries and deal with a crime lord?"

She looked up at him curiously. "Well, yes. If Aria can get me the resources I need, I'll negotiate with her."

"She's a _crime lord, _Shepard," he protested, stunned that she didn't seem to see anything wrong with that. "No one gets called a crime lord for rescuing puppies and kittens from trees."

They reached the rapid transit terminal and found an empty cab waiting. Shepard climbed in as she spoke. "I don't _like _the idea of having to deal with her again. But it doesn't really matter what I like right now, does it?"

He slid in behind her. "What do you mean? We're not talking about what you enjoy doing, we're talking about entirely compromising your morals."

The cab launched away from the stand. "I know that, Nathan," she replied a little testily. "I'm not going to kill anyone for Aria, if that's what you're getting at."

"Of course not. I wasn't suggesting—"

She turned to face him directly. "Look, normally I wouldn't deal with a criminal like Aria, but I don't have the luxury of following such a strict moral code right now."

Okay, that was just silly. "You don't just get to choose to ignore your morals when it suits you," he argued. "Besides, you're not just making ethical judgements for yourself right now, you're doing it for all of us. You're choosing who'll be holding loaded weapons at our backs!"

Shepard's expression was hard now. "The troops Aria can get for me could give us a huge boost in strength. We _need_ that right now. If I have to bend my own ethical standards to make it happen, I will. I'll make that choice for all of us. No one gets hurt, and no one dies. That's good enough for me. Remember what's at stake here."

Nathan was very tempted to keep arguing, but with some effort he decided to let it drop. He supposed he could see her point, but he also knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that as soon as you compromised the morals and ethics that made you human you started to lose your humanity. And that didn't seem right in a battle for humanity's very existence.

But then again, what good was your own humanity when you and every other human in the galaxy were dead?

He shook his head. All he knew for sure was that making deals with the criminal underworld was not something he had ever thought Shepard would do, and it made him uneasy seeing her do it. He knew she had worked with Aria on Omega, but as he understood it she had simply spoken with her to get information on Mordin and Garrus' locations. Aria had asked her to help deal with another problem – he wasn't too sure of the details, something to do with a krogan – and Shepard had flat out turned her down.

For her to have decided to negotiate with Aria now meant something significant had changed. Nathan was sure the guilt she was feeling over losing Palaven had something to do with this. She had been focussed and determined before, but now that focus seemed more urgent, more brittle. She was worried, and it was starting to show.

The silence was stony and uncomfortable. Nathan thoroughly disliked it. He wanted to break it immediately, but he figured they both needed a little time to cool down.

It lasted until they had disembarked from the cab and entered Huerta Memorial Hospital. Shepard asked for directions to Major Alenko's room, and, feeling like he would be intruding, Nathan stayed in the waiting area. He found an unobtrusive seat in a corner and leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, eyeing his surroundings with some trepidation. Hospitals had never been on the list of his favourite places in the galaxy.

A vid-screen caught his eye as a familiar shape – the brilliant white hull of the _Normandy_ – flashed across it.

"… _Reports have been somewhat sketchy but it appears Commander Shepard was able to salvage the failed attack on Palaven. She took command of the operation while under heavy fire on the ground when both the human and turian leaders were killed," the voiceover was saying. "Despite the Commander's heroic efforts the Alliance and Hierarchy forces were eventually pushed back, but not before destroying up to twenty Reapers with an innovative new tactic devised by Shepard and perfected on the turian moon of Menae."_

_Wait, what? _He watched as shaky omnitool footage of Menae was played showing Miranda, Kasumi, Shepard and himself dodging away from the Reaper destroyer's plasma beam. It focussed in on Shepard with a finger to her ear, yelling into her comm, then neatly diving out of the way again. The camera seemed to belong to one of the turians they had been there to rescue; it shook and cut away to a much clearer image of said turians sprinting away from one of their prefabs as it went up in crimson fire. Soon after, the camera cut away again and re-focussed on the hull of the _Normandy_ as it roared by overhead, firing its thanix cannon into the Reaper's weapons port. He could see Shepard's and his own silhouette outlined in black against the falling Reaper.

Nathan shook his head and looked away, amazed at how they had bent the truth. Were they not aware the disabled Reapers had been playing dead the whole time? Or were they aware, but twisting the truth anyway just to make for a better story? Looking around, he could see the excited reactions of some who had been watching it. He wondered if it had been manufactured just to provoke such reactions – was it entirely propaganda? If so, he supposed he could understand it, but it still made him a little uncomfortable being propped up on such a precarious pedestal. He was glad no one recognised him from the vid.

Shifting in his seat, he glanced around the waiting room. The last time he had been at Huerta Memorial it hadn't been nearly as packed. The room was full to capacity; he was sandwiched in between an asari child and her adult companion, and a huge turian male, who seemed just as antsy as Nathan himself. Judging by the amount of energy the child seemed to have, she was clearly not the unwell party. She was bouncing up and down incessantly, much to her older companion's annoyance. He wondered why each of these people were there, whether they were waiting for an injured friend or family member, or if they themselves were in line to be seen by a doctor. He wondered how many were there due to the war.

He caught sight of a pair of asari sitting nearby, one of whom twitched occasionally in her seat as the other spoke in soothing, careful tones. Surreptitiously he listened, learning that the first asari was a commando who had just returned from responding to a distress call from the human colony of Tiptree with her unit. His dread grew as her story went on, until finally he was listening in horrified silence as she related having to kill a young, injured farm girl named Hilary in order to escape with valuable data on the Reapers.

Nathan leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, sick to the stomach at the choice the commando had been forced to make. Hilary had broken her leg and was in significant pain, crying and generally making a lot of noise, attracting unwanted attention. The commando couldn't have stayed there, she couldn't have carried the girl out of there fast enough to escape, nor could she just leave her for the Reapers. Killing her had actually been a kind of mercy.

_Christ._

He studied the floor between his feet. It wasn't nearly the same as Shepard compromising her personal integrity to get the job done, but it did drive home the fact that if ever there was a time for hard choices to be made, it was now. He _knew_ they were at war for their very existence. He knew that. But the asari's story was still a bit of a wakeup call.

When Shepard emerged, she was striding along quickly. She spotted him and smiled, and he could tell a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. He met her halfway to the exit, matching her stride as they left the building and headed for the elevator to the Presidium Commons. "Everything okay?" he asked.

"Kaidan is healing well. He'll be cleared for duty in a few days. He's going to be taking command of a team of biotic specialists. He offered me his support." She glanced up at him. "And… he apologised.

Nathan raised an eyebrow. He hadn't expected that, after the way Alenko had spoken to Shepard on Mars. He had thought she was chasing after a lost cause. "Really?"

She nodded. "Yes. He told me he regretted being so quick to jump to conclusions when he found out I was working with Cerberus. And he said he should have let me explain everything at the time rather than running away. We talked it over. It was… nice."

The expression on her face was a mixture of relief and a little surprise. Nathan hadn't realised just how much she valued Kaidan's friendship, and it seemed she hadn't either.

That was the thing about Shepard, he mused as they stepped into the elevator. She kept her feelings buried so deep down that it was difficult for her to even acknowledge them, let alone actually deal with them. She never talked about herself. It was a survival mechanism, he was sure, and he could certainly empathise with that.

Impulsively he slipped an arm around her waist and planted a kiss on her cheek. She grinned in surprise. "What was that for?"

"Nothing in particular," he said sheepishly. Her hair was as neat as ever, but he ran his fingers along her hairline as if he was brushing hair out of her eyes anyway. "Look, I owe you an apology for laying into you before," he admitted. "I heard a few things at the hospital that gave me some perspective. Hard decisions need to be made, and I should be supporting you."

She shook her head, taking his hand and turning to face him fully. "Wait. No. You don't need to apologise. I needed you to do that."

He frowned, confused. "You did?"

She nodded. "Yes. Nathan, when you look at me you don't see the first human Spectre, or the Alliance's big hero." She waved an arm dismissively at the accolades. "You just see _me. _And you tell me if you think I'm being an idiot. I like it. I _need _it." She met his gaze earnestly, blue eyes flashing. "You're a good man. I trust you, and I value your opinion more than I think you realise."

He blinked, thrown for a loop. He _hadn't _realised that. He knew they had been having a lot of fun and that they liked each other a lot, but he hadn't realised she valued him that highly. If he got right down to it, he had never even really considered himself her equal. And yet, she was telling him he was just that.

He found himself suddenly having to swallow a lump in his throat. To be thought of as so… worthwhile… was new to him. To be trusted and valued by someone he admired, respected, and…

Shepard seemed to unconsciously straighten her shoulders. "I told Admiral Hackett about our relationship," she admitted.

He felt his eyebrows fly up of their own accord. "You what?"

She grimaced. "I told him we were together. He… wasn't happy. He questioned my judgement."

Nathan pulled back, folding his arms over his chest and keeping his face carefully blank. "Why… What did he say?"

She shook her head. "I had to tell him. He recommended I transfer you. Or… end it."

He nodded stiffly, trying to ignore the sudden pain in his chest. "What are you going to do?"

She reached up and took one of his hands, fitting her thumb into his palm and curling her fingers around his. "Neither of those things," she told him softly.

He dropped his other arm back to his side, the tightness in his chest easing off, and studied their entwined fingers. "Are you sure?" he finally asked. "I… well, I want to be with you, Shepard. More than I've ever wanted anything," he admitted, stumbling over the words. "But if I cost you the ability to lead us in this war…"

She shook her head firmly. "Hackett's wrong. You don't impair my judgement. You _improve _it."

"Could you send me off to die, Shepard?" he blurted out. He immediately regretted the way that had come out, but he had to ask.

She winced, but didn't flinch from the question. "Yes," she replied, voice low and steady. "I… already have, Nathan." The surprise he was feeling must have showed on his face. "On Palaven I ordered you and your team to complete your mission. I wanted that harvester nest destroyed so they couldn't be sent against the retreating krogan troop ships. And… I wasn't sure we could pull you out afterward. But it was hundreds of krogan lives weighed against five of my crew. It had to be done. And I would do it again." She shuddered. "I won't like it, but I'll do it."

He met her eyes, and something unspoken passed between them. An understanding. She hated the idea of sending him to his death with every mortal fibre of her being, but she could and would do it if she had to. And in some perversely morbid way, Nathan found that reassuring. He trusted her judgement, and he wanted to live and die on his own merits. He didn't want to be coddled and protected because he knew the right people.

He gathered her into his arms, holding her close and breathing in the smell of her hair. She slid her arms around him and pressed herself into his embrace. "I want you with me, Nathan," she murmured into his ear, then leaned back just enough to press her lips against his.


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter Thirty-Six**

The Plaza was busy, filled with a mix of civilians and military from many different races. Asari commandos mixed with salarian special forces, while human pilots mixed with elcor infantry. The lunch rush was just starting for humans and turians, while the mid-morning meal for asari and hanar was almost over. A myriad shops and cafes lined the edges and air cars whipped by overhead, projecting shadows onto the plaza below as they glided between it and the simulated sun. Chatter in dozens of different tongues filled the air, punctuated by the occasional twang of an alien musical instrument.

It was so full of life. Signs they were in the middle of a war were hard to spot, so much so that Shepard could almost fool herself into thinking she and Nathan were just another normal couple out for a meal together. Almost. Although she had made the decision to trust her own judgement when it came to her relationship with Nathan, the knowledge that she was going against Hackett's recommendation weighed on her mind. She didn't regret her decision and she certainly wasn't going to change her mind, but next to Admiral Anderson, Admiral Hackett was probably the person she had the most respect for in the entire Alliance military, and a mentor. Doing something contrary to his advice was… difficult.

Nevertheless, although she refrained from any obvious public displays of affection, she allowed herself to walk a little closer to Nathan as they made their way through the Commons. Glancing up at him, she noticed he was watching a group of turians sitting together in a nest of park benches near the stairs to the lake below. All were bandaged in some way. Some were missing limbs. They bent their heads together, talking quietly as the bustle of the Plaza moved around them.

"We need to end this, Shepard," he murmured, expression as sober as she had ever seen it. Those turians had lost everything.

"I know," she replied quietly. "We will."

They skirted around a tired-looking group of medical professionals of various races, heading for the stairs to Aria's latest unofficial throne room, Purgatory. Before they could enter the alcove, Shepard spotted a young human boy clinging tightly to an adult man's hand. The boy was pulling on the man's hand, trying to look at everything at once, and his eyes widened in surprise as he spotted her. "Daddy! Daddy, look!" he shouted in a high-pitched, excited voice, flinging his little arm out and pointing straight at her. "It's Commander Shepard!"

She stopped short, startled, but recovered quickly. Back after the battle for the Citadel this sort of thing had happened a lot. She painted a polite, friendly smile onto her face and waited.

The boy's father was looking where his son was pointing, clearly humouring the child, but he promptly went bright red when he realised it was actually her. "Henry," he chided, trying to draw the boy away. "Don't point at people, it's rude."

Henry was having none of it. "But daddy, it's _her_! Commander Shepard!" He pulled on his father's hand, practically dragging the man toward her, then let go and flung his pudgy little arm up in a surprisingly credible imitation of a salute. "Private Henry reporter for duty Commander!"

Shepard felt her polite smile grow into something more genuine. The boy's father looked mortified. She met Henry's eyes and snapped to attention, returning his salute and schooling her expression into something as serious and Commander-ly as she could make it. "At ease, Private Henry. Glad to have such a capable soldier on my team."

Henry's little face practically glowed as he stared up at her. "How many Reapers did you smoosh today, Commander?" he asked excitedly.

_Smoosh? _In her peripheral vision she could see Nathan struggling to contain his laughter. She couldn't blame him; the kid was beyond cute. "Hm, let's see," she pretended to think out loud. "There were at least four before breakfast – I like to start the day with a warm up. Then we took out another five that were trying to creep up on the Citadel just now."

"Don't forget the three that woke you up last night, Commander, making that siren noise of theirs right outside your window on the _Normandy_," Nathan added helpfully.

She nodded. "Oh, right, of course. That noise is _really_ annoying, isn't it? So that would make it… how many?" She frowned at Nathan, pretending to be having trouble trying to work it out.

"Ten… eleven… _twelve!" _Henry exclaimed right on cue. "You smooshed _twelve_ Reapers! Wow!"

Henry's face was glowing, but his father's expression had sobered somewhat as they spoke. It had taken a turn for the sad and wistful. The kid seemed to sense it, looking up at his dad and shuffling his feet. He gripped his dad's hand tightly, and the brave face he put on almost broke Shepard's heart right there. She wondered what had happened to them. Perhaps it was just the war in general, but she thought not. Suddenly she had to fight to maintain her cheerful façade.

Henry returned his attention to her, his little face all too serious. "Thank you for killing the Reapers for us," he told her earnestly.

Her façade dropped like a rock in heavy gravity. She floundered for a response, surprised that for once Nathan wasn't saying anything. He was usually much better at reacting when put on the spot in a social situation than she was. But Henry's father seemed to understand. He answered the unspoken question with a sad smile. "Elise. My wife. His mother."

_Damn_. She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I'm… I'm working as quickly as I can…"

He reached out, taking her hand. "Stop, stop. Don't apologise. We've lost a lot, yes, we've lost something irreplaceable. But everything you do gives us hope for the future. Whenever we see you and the _Normandy_ on the news… We're with you, Commander. We're behind you. _Thank you_." He gripped her hand tightly, then let go and ushered Henry away. "Come on, I'm sure the Commander has lots of important things to do."

"Shit," Nathan murmured as they left.

"Yeah," she agreed quietly, mechanically setting off again toward their destination. The poor kid had lost his mother to the Reapers. She grimaced to herself. Everywhere she went it seemed she got another reminder of the stakes in this war.

The ten minute walk took twenty with the frequent stops they had to make along the way to shake hands, sign autographs and take pictures. Shepard began feeling a little sick to the stomach by the end of it, having to force herself to smile and say a few encouraging words to each person, but she knew it had to be done. She felt hypocritical after the way Palaven had turned out, completely undeserving of the hope and awe people piled on her. But still she pushed through. The slight discomfort she was feeling was nothing compared to the hell some of these people had been through and the comfort she seemed to be providing them simply by shaking hands. All the same, she was glad to finally step into Purgatory, where the lights were down low enough that she wouldn't be recognised from any more than a metre or two away.

Despite the early hour the club was full of people dancing with the abandon common to those trying to forget their troubles. It was less seedy than other clubs she had had the misfortune to walk into, but still had an air of use to it, especially in the scuffed floors and slightly worn seating.

None of that was evident in the secluded yet prominent nook Aria had claimed as her own, however. Shepard led Nathan over, bypassing an annoyed C-Sec officer who seemed to recognise her and do a double take. She shook her head, rolled her eyes and muttered something about friends in high places before hurrying off.

Aria was draped indolently over the bright red couch, eyeing Shepard with her familiar predatory gaze. "Shepard. I'm surprised to see you here. Slumming it, are we?"

"Only for you, Aria," she responded in kind, taking a seat on the couch without being invited and ignoring Aria's pointed side-eye. Mentally she steeled herself for the inevitable verbal duel ahead. She nodded toward the departing C-Sec officer. "What was that all about?"

Aria sighed theatrically. "C-Sec seems to think I should go through Customs like all the other rabble. I disagree. Luckily, so did Councilor Tevos."

"Ah," Shepard responded mildly, stretching an arm out along the back of the couch and crossing her legs comfortably one over the other. She was careful to let none of the mental exhaustion she was feeling show on the outside. "What brings you to the Citadel, anyway? Playing tourist?"

Aria's eyes narrowed slightly as she silently assessed Shepard's posture and tone for hidden meanings. She was a smart woman. Shepard knew she wouldn't need to remind her that the One Rule of Omega didn't necessarily apply on the Citadel. "Some thugs in white and yellow armour managed to rip Omega right out from under me. Cerberus – I think you've heard of them?" At Shepard's raised eyebrow she continued, "Oh, I didn't make it easy for them. But don't worry, I'll get it back." Glancing at Nathan, who had stood by silently until now with one watchful eye on her new batarian bodyguard, Aria shifted topics in an attempt to wrest back control of the conversation. "Well. I'm glad to see you took my advice about getting yourself a little something on the side for stress relief, Shepard. Maybe you could do a friend a favour and lend him to me one day."

Nathan twitched, scowling at the asari, and Shepard smiled humourlessly. Nice try, but it wasn't going to be Aria's show today. "I wouldn't have thought him to be your type, Aria. Enough banter. Let's get down to business."

"And here I thought you wanted to have a drink with an old friend."

"I don't have time for drinks with anyone these days. Giant genocidal robots are taking up all of my attention." The brief tensing of Aria's jaw at that somewhat dry but pointed reminder was gratifying. She knew the stakes. "I need your help."

Aria's expression grew hard. "Don't try and blackmail me into joining you, Shepard," she warned. "It won't work."

"I didn't say anything about blackmail. Or you, personally."

Aria scowled. "Get to the point then."

"I need troops. You have… relationships with a lot of mercenary groups and private armies. I want you to convince them to fight for me. For free."

Aria chuckled, low and deep. She sounded highly amused. "Oh, is that all?"

Judging her moment, Shepard abruptly dropped all pretence of levity, leaning forward in her seat and directing an intense stare at the supremely confident asari sitting across from her. The sudden movement had its intended effect; Aria's eyes darted fleetingly to her bodyguard. Aria would never admit it, but she was, in fact, a _tiny _bit intimidated by Commander Shepard.

Shepard played on that, injecting the full weight of the responsibility she bore into her gaze, trying to give Aria an insight into what the consequences of her failure would be. "What do you think will happen when the Reapers come for the Citadel, Aria? It's just a matter of time before they do. Do you think you'll be able to hold them off with just your mercs, all by yourself?"

She ticked the military forces of the galaxy off one by one on her fingers. "The Alliance is occupied elsewhere. The asari are digging in on Thessia, so I doubt your friend Tevos will be able to help you. The salarians are defending Sur'Kesh. The turians and krogan are out of the picture." She met and held Aria's eyes, continuing in a softer tone. "If I don't find some way to take the Reapers out, they'll kill _everyone_. I'm your only hope, Aria. And I need those troops."

Aria's eyes flickered again but her face remained stony. Shepard had to give it to her, she had a mean poker face. She didn't like this, not one bit, but she knew Shepard was right. Finally she looked away. "Damn you, Shepard," she bit out.

"This isn't about power, Aria," Shepard reassured her quietly. "I'm not trying to move in on your territory. This is about survival. Nothing more, nothing less. When this is over, you have my word that I'll help you take Omega back."

Aria stared at her for a couple of extra moments, unspoken words passing between them. _If you survive, Shepard._

Finally, she rolled her eyes, and Shepard knew she had won. "Fine. I'll talk to the Blue Suns, Eclipse and Blood Pack. Give me a few days."

"What about private armies with no allegiance to merc groups?" Shepard pressed.

"As much as I like to diversify, that pie is one I do not have any of my fingers in, to borrow one of humanity's inane expressions. You're on your own there."

"Damn." Shepard glanced at Nathan, who met her eyes over crossed arms. It wasn't quite all she had wanted from Aria, but for now it would do. Time to get out of there before all the fight completely drained out of her. Returning her attention to Aria, she stood. "Thank you, Aria."

"Yeah, yeah. Have a drink while you're here, Shepard. You can spare five minutes. You need to loosen up a bit."

Shepard smirked half-heartedly at her and left the impromptu throne room, heading out into the bar with Nathan close by her side. She hadn't gotten more than a few steps when her comm buzzed. She laid a hand on Nathan's arm and raised the other to her ear. "Shepard."

"_Commander, it's Dr Chakwas. I've been able to locate and book a facility with the equipment capable of performing extensive further testing on your cybernetic implants. Is this afternoon convenient?"_

She closed her eyes briefly. The thought that Cerberus might have made some adjustments when rebuilding her that even Miranda wasn't aware of was… the stuff nightmares were made of. She didn't want to find out. But that didn't make it any less necessary. What if it was some time limit they had built in to her bones? Check in with Cerberus and receive the all-clear codes every few months or… She gritted her teeth. "Yes. Send me the location."

"_Done. Miranda and I will meet you there. Shepard… it will be all right."_

Shepard opened her mouth to respond, but the empty words died on her lips. She closed the channel.

Nathan was close, solid and still, like an island in a rushing stream. She stepped in a little closer to him, not quite close enough to be intimate, but just enough to feel like she had stepped out of the room for a moment. Away from the press of people, the pounding bass and the gleam of Aria's watching eyes. Away from the constant, all-pervasive pressure threatening to constrict her chest until she couldn't breathe. She took a deep breath, wanting very much to just press her forehead against his chest and close her eyes for a while.

Nathan seemed to understand, as he always did. He leant down to speak directly into her ear so he could be heard over the top of the throbbing music. "Bad news?" he asked.

She shook her head. She still hadn't told him about the extra Lazarus project files they had uncovered and what they could mean for her. She didn't want to, either. It wasn't that she wanted to keep it from him, or that she thought he couldn't handle it – he was starting to make it abundantly clear that she could trust him to have her back no matter what – but more that it was something she just didn't want to acknowledge herself. The less she talked about it, the more she kept it in the back of her mind, safely compartmentalised, the better she would be able to handle it. "Just another meeting," she told him.

He didn't seem convinced, but didn't press her on it. Instead, he nudged her lightly and smiled. "Come on, let's get a drink. Aria offered."

"It's only just after midday, Nathan," she reminded him tiredly.

He shrugged. "Yeah but so far this has been a pretty terrible date. We have to do _something_ to improve it."

She cracked a weak smile. "What happened to, 'oh I just want to spend time with you, Shepard'?"

He grinned. "Your presence was the only thing that prevented it from turning into a complete disaster. So far you've taken me to see a shady information broker, a crime lord, and to top it all off, your _ex_. I think this rates up there with one of the worst first dates in history."

She chuckled. "I don't know, no one's shot at us yet."

"True, but the day's still young. Come on, have a drink with me."

Shepard thought about it, tracing the open, friendly lines of his face with her eyes. He wasn't just offering her a drink, she realised, he was offering her a few hours of escape. From everything. She still had things to take care of, but for now… god, that was an appealing idea. She nodded hesitantly. "All right."

He reached out to lay a hand against the small of her back, but stopped and grimaced at the last moment. "Sorry. Automatic."

Shepard glanced back at Aria, who was now speaking with another visitor. Holding court. "No one besides Aria is going to recognise me in here, Nathan. It's too dark. It's all right."

Never one for half-measures, Nathan slipped his arm around her waist and with a devilish grin pulled her up against him, leaning down to kiss her. Thoroughly. When they finally broke apart, she found herself a little out of breath. "That what you had in mind?" he asked.

She laughed. Somehow he always found a way to make her smile. "It's a start."

A few minutes later they had managed to find a relatively secluded booth upstairs, away from the main bar but with a good view of the dance floor. Shepard had manoeuvred herself into a position that allowed her to sit with Nathan's arm around her shoulders while keeping her face mostly turned away from the rest of the club. It was probably overkill – someone would have to come right up to the booth to be able to make out her features – but she was determined to remain unrecognised. Right now all she wanted was an hour or two where she could leave the Commander back on board the _Normandy_ and just be Shepard.

"I was joking about you starting your own game development company before, obviously," Nathan was saying, "but what _do _you want to do once the war is over?"

She took a sip of her drink, a warm, vaguely chocolatey concoction. It was smooth and almost too sweet, but very, very good. Nathan had convinced her to try it, and so far she was glad. "I've never really thought about it," she admitted slowly.

"Really? Surely there must be something you want to do outside the military."

"I don't know. I grew up on various Alliance ships and space stations, then enlisted at eighteen. I've never really known anything else." She shrugged. "What would I do, anyway? My skills don't exactly translate very well to civilian life."

"You could work security for the corporate world, or maybe for a colony, I guess," Nathan suggested. "Any colony would be overjoyed to have you as their security chief."

She made a face. "I'd just end up being some sort of tourist attraction."

"Heh. Yeah, maybe. Hmm. You could be a farmer."

She eyed him. "A farmer."

"Shepard's corn, the best corn in all the colonies—"

She gave him an appraising look. "Wouldn't I have sheep?"

"Sheep? Why… oh. Because you're Shepard. Very funny." Nathan shook his head, and she grinned as she took another drink. It was warm and smooth, and between it and their banter she found herself growing more relaxed. "Okay, okay. Well… you don't have to leave the military. You'd get your pick of assignments."

Shepard found herself laughing at that. "You know what's so sad about that? The best assignment I've ever had, the best times of my life, have been in command of the _Normandy_. Despite the suicide mission and the giant genocidal robots. I think I must be crazy, but if I had the choice I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Do you think they'd let me keep her?"

He brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes. "Of course they would. That's not sad or crazy at all. The _Normandy_ crew is practically your second family. And you thrive on battle, Shepard. The happiest I've ever seen you is knee-deep in hostiles, Mattock in one hand, omni-blade in the other. Well," he corrected with a wolfish smile, "maybe the _second _happiest."

She almost choked on her drink, and had to set it down. She gave him an indignant glare. Entirely unrepentant, Nathan cupped her cheek in his palm and leaned in to kiss her.

Shepard let herself be carried away by the kiss, enjoying the moment. The crowded dance floor just a few metres away faded into the background along with the loud music. She shifted closer, feeling inexplicably safer and more content the nearer he was.

"How about you, then?" she asked after a while, her lips and nose inches from his, his breath warm on her cheek. "What are your plans for after the war?"

His eyes grew far away as he spoke. "I want to take up that invitation to N-school. If it still exists. And… I want my own ship." He shook his head. "Silly, I know."

She frowned. "Why is that silly?"

"Well…"

Nathan's attention abruptly shifted away from her, to the dance floor over her shoulder. His eyes widened, and he almost looked as though he had seen a ghost. She twisted around, following his gaze, but all she saw were dancers. She turned back. "What is it?" she asked with a touch of apprehension. They were in a nightclub on the Citadel but that didn't mean they were automatically safe… Her hand strayed in the vague direction of her sidearm.

"I thought I saw…" he trailed off, a sudden smile blossoming. "No fucking _way. _Spore! What the hell are you doing here?" he practically yelled across the dance floor. She eyed him in consternation, belatedly shielding her ear, but relaxed and pulled her hand away from her pistol. Nathan was already half-standing in the booth and waving to someone across the room.

She twisted around again, and spotted a group of Alliance soldiers waving back and jogging towards them from the bar. They were grinning ear to ear, matching Nathan's own expression as he slid out from behind the table to meet them, and yet she suddenly felt very self-conscious. She hadn't been expecting a social situation – she had originally intended to leave the bar quickly after speaking to Aria for precisely this reason, but Nathan had convinced her to stay… She took a quick drink to cover her nerves. The soldiers didn't recognise her now, but as soon as they did it would be back to being the Commander again.

The four of them engulfed him in bear hugs, slapping him on the back and shaking hands as though they were old friends who hadn't seen one another in years. A little curious despite herself, she slid out behind him and perched awkwardly on the table, waiting.

"Briggsy!" the one she had pegged as 'Spore' was crowing. "We thought you died on Earth, man!"

One of the others, a woman with short blonde hair, shoved him in the shoulder. "The hell, LT? N-school got toasted and you didn't think it might be a good idea to send us a message?"

_Toasted? _Shepard blinked. She hadn't heard that. Her old instructors all lived there. Corporal Parish, Major Seeren, Private Darenburg the cook… she hoped they hadn't been there at the time, but she knew it was probably a futile hope. _Fuck._

Nathan held up his hands in protest. "I've been busy Dange, sorry."

"Busy? Everything's gone to shit, dude. Where the hell have you been?" a thin, reedy dark-skinned man demanded.

"Well, I got reassigned." Nathan glanced back at Shepard apologetically and she schooled her face into something a little less melancholy. He knew how much she disliked impromptu social situations like this, and how keen she had been on remaining anonymous, and it showed in his eyes when he looked at her. Gathering her courage and the comforting refuge of the Commander mask around herself, she stepped forward to join him. "Dangerfield, Ngandu, Sporritt, Jarvis." Nathan indicated each soldier in turn. "This is my CO, Commander Shepard."

Dangerfield, Ngandu and Jarvis' expressions ranged from surprise to barely restrained glee from Dangerfield as they all hurriedly snapped to attention and saluted. Sporritt just stared, looking from her to Nathan and back again, until Dangerfield thrust a hard elbow into his side. He pulled himself into a belated salute.

Shepard smoothly returned their salutes. Saluting a squad of marines was something she was more than comfortable with, but these four were more than just another group of soldiers. She had recognised some of the names Nathan had used – these marines were all part of his old squad. "It's a pleasure to meet you all," she offered awkwardly, a little unsure about the social protocols of such a situation.

Dangerfield was clearly the group's spokesperson. "It's an honour, ma'am," she replied, cheeks almost glowing as she stood at rigid attention.

"Would you like to join us?" she asked, knowing Nathan would want to spend some time with them.

"We could? I mean, we don't want to impose, ma'am…" Dangerfield trailed off. Ngandu snorted quietly, prompting the blonde woman to flush slightly and cast him a dirty look. Shepard caught the flush, resigning herself to the realisation that she seemed to have a fan in this particular marine.

"Don't worry, you're not imposing," Shepard reassured her, beckoning them all over to the booth and sliding back in. "Na—Lieutenant Briggs talks about his old squad a lot. It's good to finally meet some of them."

It was a tight fit, but that just gave her an excuse to sit closer to Nathan. Poor Dangerfield, who was seated beside her, seemed to have acquired a permanent pink tinge to her face, while Ngandu looked unhappy about the whole situation. Or perhaps that was just his usual expression. The fourth marine, Jarvis, remained nonchalantly silent and watchful, seeming interested but disinclined to talk.

"So what are you all doing here?" Nathan asked. His leg was pressing firmly against hers beneath the table, an offer of support. She was grateful for it. "Last I heard you were assigned to Garnerus."

"What a shitstorm that was," Ngandu grumbled. "We—ow!" He glared at Dangerfield, who glared back until he grudgingly added, "'Scuse the language, Commander."

Fleetingly she was reminded of Zaeed. She cracked a brief smile. "I've heard worse."

Ngandu shot Dangerfield a look that plainly said 'so there', and continued what he had been saying. His voice was gruff and deep, with a slight regional Earth accent – African, if she remembered correctly. "We were supposed to evacuate a scientific research facility and the colony that had sprung up alongside it. Only we just had the one ship."

"That seems short-sighted. There were no ships on the ground?" Shepard queried, surprised.

"There was a goddamn Cerberus spy!" Sporritt blurted out angrily. "The asshole sabotaged all the spaceworthy craft at the medical facility before taking the colony's only shuttle."

"Cerberus?" Nathan leaned forward on his elbows, exchanging a glance with her. "Any idea why they were there?"

"Nope," the previously quiet Jarvis spoke up in reply. Her calm and casual tones were a significant contrast to the rest of her team. "Research notes showed a lot of food and plant-based research. Don't know what Cerberus might have wanted with that."

It would be silly to assume that all the Illusive Man ever did was think of ways to get to her, but on the other hand, it didn't hurt to be thorough. "I'd appreciate it if I could get a copy of those notes," she said.

Jarvis nodded, raising her omnitool. "No worries. I'll forward them now." Her accent reminded Shepard of Miranda's – Australian? – although it was far more laid-back and rustic. The woman's skin tone was significantly darker too.

"Thank you." Glancing at her own omnitool she confirmed she had received the file. "What happened with the scientists and colonists?" she asked. "Did you manage to get them all out?"

"The scientists had already been killed when we arrived," Ngandu told her. She grimaced. "No doubt the work of the Cerberus spy. We called for more ships but hadn't heard anything by the time we found out the Reapers were in the next system over."

"We had to pack as many of the colonists as we could into Captain Thuy's frigate and promise to come back for the rest," Sporritt explained grimly, heaving a depressed sigh.

"The Reapers attacked Garnerus yesterday. We were at FTL halfway to the relay," Dangerfield added quietly.

Shepard shook her head, staring at her drink on the table in front of her as all the contentedness she had been feeling drained away. The Reapers would have turned those colonists into husks by now, or processed them into human sludge to form a new Reaper. And _humans_ had helped them do it.

Goddamn Cerberus. What was the Illusive Man _thinking? _There was no way to control the Reapers. Spending time and effort on trying to do that was a pointless waste of resources, resources that were _sorely_ needed elsewhere. The only way out of this, the only way to save the galaxy was to destroy the Reapers completely. To eradicate every last trace of their million-year existence.

She took a long, slow drink, focussing on the faint burn as it went down. Every moment she sat still on the Citadel something else happened. The Reapers took another colony, or another of the Illusive Man's diabolical plans came to fruition. Either way, somehow another billion people were murdered.

She didn't realise how much of a funk she had sunk into until she gradually become conscious of Nathan's leg pressing insistently up against hers, and how tightly she was clenching her teeth. With some effort she relaxed her jaw and returned her attention to the conversation, which had moved on without her.

"Where's your next posting?" Nathan asked. He glanced at Shepard. "Maybe… if we have room…"

She frowned inwardly, considering it. She had no immediate need for another team of marines. If this were any other time, it would be an immediate 'no'. But if taking them on board the _Normandy_ could keep them safer than they would be elsewhere… And who knew, really, whether she would need them in the coming weeks and months? The _Normandy_ had room.

"Don't know," Sporritt replied, glancing from Shepard to Dangerfield. "We're back with Captain Thuy though. Probably going to some other colony we won't be able to evacuate in time."

Dangerfield was reading something on her omnitool. "Terra Nova," she informed them, glancing up from her screen. "The Reapers have it. We're supposed to assess whether it's worth spending the resources to take it back or not."

Terra Nova… wait a second. That was in the same system as Eden Prime. Maybe instead of taking them with her, she could hitch a ride with them. It would mean she wouldn't have to wait for the _Normandy_ to come out of drydock. Shepard leaned forward. "When do you leave?" she asked.

Dangerfield frowned as she read. "Tomorrow morning," she replied.

Shepard glanced at Nathan, then back to Dangerfield. "We need to get to Eden Prime and the _Normandy_ is down for repairs right now. I've never met Captain Thuy – how do you think he would feel about a little side trip and a few passengers?"

Dangerfield blinked. "For you, ma'am? Of course he'd do it."

Shepard smiled and instantly began feeling better.


	37. Chapter 37

_A/N: Thanks to a good friend who would prefer to remain uncredited for his beta work on this chapter. Any remaining errors are solely mine._

_And a huge thank you to another good friend of mine, beakyree from Tumblr, who created some absolutely beautiful cover art for this story. Head over to Tumblr (just search for 'beakyree draws') to check out a larger version of her wonderful artwork, as well as her other stuff._

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Seven**

Eden Prime was nothing like Shepard remembered.

The platform where she had been caught in the thrall of the first Prothean beacon was still there, left untouched like some shrine to a moment she would rather forget, but the tram station had been completely demolished. It had been replaced by a deep excavation lined with scaffolding, makeshift stairs and access ladders snaking between nodes of activity. Tall, sharply angled structures of Prothean design were visible in places, having been gradually revealed by the painstakingly slow work of dedicated archaeologists. Said archaeologists were dotted along the steep sides of the massive pit, clinging to scaffolding attached to the exposed rock as they studied the treasures they had unearthed.

It seemed Liara had been right – they had been standing, or more accurately, fighting geth, on top of a Prothean treasure trove the whole time. Shepard wondered if Saren had known about it.

The shuttle touched down in a makeshift landing zone, which was little more than a crudely delineated circle in the dirt a couple hundred metres from the prefab site office. Shepard strode from the shuttle in full armour, followed by Nathan, Garrus and the four marines from Nathan's old team. Between them they were carrying enough firepower to take out a small, fortified army. She wasn't precisely expecting trouble, but she knew information about the Catalyst was something many different factions in the galaxy would like to get their hands on. There was no way she was going to let them do that.

She was particularly conscious of the fact that they had yet to find the mole in her crew, the person who had leaked information about the Palaven attack to the Reapers. So it was highly possible – even likely – that they would have a fight on their hands today.

"Beautiful here," Dangerfield commented cheerfully as they walked across the open field between the landing zone and the site office, heavy armoured boots trampling the gently swaying green grass.

"It's a bit hot," Ngandu grumbled, fidgeting in his armour, which was already the lightest of the group. The thin, reedy man seemed to always find something to complain about.

"Stop whinging, mate. Enjoy the sunshine," Jarvis told him as she skirted around a clump of flowering shrubs. He made a face at her in response and deliberately stepped on the stalk of a tall, purple flower, sending it flopping to the ground.

"What exactly are we looking for here?" Garrus asked Shepard, drawing up beside her.

"I don't know. Liara wasn't able to give me too many details. Another beacon, perhaps?" She shrugged. "Something that'll tell us what the Catalyst is, I hope. Apparently when Liara spoke to the head of the expedition here he didn't want to give away too many specifics over a comm channel." Garrus grunted in response, keeping pace with her as they approached the office.

The head of the expedition was a short, rotund human man who could almost be mistaken for a volus at distance if it weren't for the lack of a pressure suit. He darted out of the site office and hurried over to them as soon as they came within waddling distance. "Commander Shepard!" he called excitedly. To his credit, he seemed completely unintimidated by the squad of heavily armed and armoured marines striding across the field toward him.

Shepard extended a gloved hand. "Doctor Felishaw I presume?"

His grip was firm as he shook her hand. "Correct. You'll have to excuse my enthusiasm, Commander. When Doctor T'Soni informed me you were coming it made my day – no, my week! My year!"

"You've been keeping up with news of the war out here, then?" Garrus queried.

Felishaw glanced over at him, a flicker of confusion crossing his face, replaced quickly by understanding. "Oh! Oh, no. I mean yes, it's an honour to meet you for those reasons too, Commander, but I must say I'm far more interested in your ability to read and understand the Prothean language." He stopped himself abruptly, eyes widening. "I mean, oh heavens, defeating the Reapers is certainly the more important endeavour—"

Shepard raised a hand to stop him, impatient to get moving even as she was warming to the man. Nathan, who had come up on her other side, shifted his weight enough to cause his armour to creak in response. She wasn't sure if he was sympathising or uncomfortable with her abruptness. She supposed she wasn't normally so rushed, but they were on a timer here. Doctor Felishaw hadn't meant to give offense, he was clearly just so dedicated to his work that everything else came a distant second. He reminded her of Liara's naive enthusiasm, back when they had first met. "Doctor, please, I understand. It's all right. Show me what you found."

Relieved, the short man led them up onto the platform overlooking the excavation below. Shepard cast a sideways glance at the housing that had once contained the Prothean beacon as they moved past. It had been severely warped and rusted with weather and time. "As I told Doctor T'Soni," Felishaw explained, "I believe we may have discovered something that could lead us to this Catalyst she has been telling me about. What I _wasn't _able to tell her is that it appears to be some sort of interface, a beacon or a VI or… or something. We don't know. We haven't been able to get it to work."

"And that's where I come in." Shepard nodded. "All right. Take us to it."

Felishaw blinked at her abruptness. "I—of course." He eyed the heavy weapons strapped to each marine's back. "Uh… is all that heavy weaponry necessary? The excavation is quite… delicate."

Dangerfield twitched, a hand straying protectively toward her meticulously maintained Mantis sniper rifle. Shepard smiled grimly. "I'm afraid so, Doctor," she replied. "The moment we landed here, this place became a target. I recommend you pull your team out and have them standing by ready to evacuate, should it become necessary."

"Oh… oh my." Fear momentarily clouded the doctor's eyes. He appeared to be reassessing his excitement at her presence. He raised a hand to his ear. "Give me a few moments to give the order, Commander."

She nodded and turned to face her team, grateful Captain Thuy had released the four marines from Nathan's old squad to accompany her while Thuy himself continued on to Terra Nova with the rest. Thuy leaving meant they wouldn't have the early warning an orbiting frigate could provide if hostile forces appeared, but Shepard was just glad the Captain had given her the extra firepower these marines represented. "Jarvis, back to the shuttle," she ordered. "Park it somewhere other than the middle of the compound. I want an early warning if we do get unwanted visitors, and a clear escape route." The older woman saluted, somehow managing to seem both respectful and casual at the same time, then strode away. "Garrus, Dangerfield, find yourselves some good positions up here and be ready to provide sniper cover if needed. Give yourselves a good line of sight to the landing zone but make sure you coordinate with Jarvis to keep your paths to the shuttle clear." Dangerfield saluted eagerly and left with Garrus, already firing questions at the more experienced turian as they walked. "The rest of you, with me."

Nathan gave her a nod and held her eyes for a moment, searching. Something was bothering him. She wondered what it was, but now certainly wasn't the place to ask. Ngandu nodded and pulled out an energy bar, chewing as they walked. Sporritt tossed her a quick but by-the-book salute and followed.

Dr Felishaw led them down a steep metal staircase attached to the side of the pit, switching back and forth and descending at least fifteen storeys into the cooler earth below. As they moved down, stepping carefully against the slight swaying of the stairs, Shepard noticed the archaeologists were moving up, obeying Felishaw's order to prepare to evacuate. By the time they reached the bottom, it was silent and empty. Even the sounds of their boots were slightly muffled. It felt like… a tomb. She suppressed a shiver and kept her hand hovering near her sidearm, muscles tensed and ready for any surprises.

Felishaw indicated a partially revealed doorway, greenish-black Prothean architecture peeking out from under moist, greyish sand. "Through here," he said, voice hushed with a touch of what could be awe, pride, or both.

They passed through a short entrance hallway, then emerged into very familiar surroundings.

The walls stretched up over their heads to almost the same height of the excavation itself, and they were lined with sleeper pods. The room they had stepped into seemed cut from some sort of black stone, although Shepard didn't remember seeing any of the same stone on the surface. The floor and walls were lined with the same eerie green lighting she recalled from Ilos, leaving shadows lurking at every sharp corner.

Another chill ran down between Shepard's shoulder blades. It was a sleeper facility, just like the one on Ilos. But Ilos had been a secret, and a last resort, activated only when it appeared the scientists working on creating a mass relay would not survive the inevitable razing of the planet. What was the purpose of _this_ place?

"Is it just me or does anyone else expect ravagers to start jumping out at us?" Nathan murmured at her side. She ignored him.

Felishaw cast him a curious glance, but spoke to her instead. "The interface is over here." He indicated a wide terminal housing set into one of the walls.

Shepard studied it carefully, looking for anything even vaguely familiar. She was surprised – although she supposed she shouldn't have been, thanks to the Prothean Cipher – to find that as she looked over the control panels the angular alien design actually made complete sense to her. Nodding to herself, she removed her gloves and laid her hands on the receptors, then flicked a switch and touched another control. The terminal immediately lit up with warm yellow lights and a holographic interface similar to a keyboard slid out before her.

"Oh, my word!" Felishaw was murmuring delightedly. "Brilliant!" She ignored him and brought up a description of the terminal's functions, reading quickly.

The terminal had no information on the Crucible or the Catalyst, but was instead full of data on the now long-dead Protheans lying in the pods. They had been primarily soldiers and political leaders, but also their families and support staff. The facility had been governed by a VI similar to Vigil, but try as she might, with her limited technical skills Shepard couldn't seem to get it to boot up. With a sick feeling she wondered when it had become damaged or gone dormant – she couldn't tell which – and how far into its programmed culling it had been. The facility did indeed seem to be similar to Ilos, but intended instead to be a last resort to save a dying species. She skimmed through the inhabitants manifest, shaking her head sadly at the rows and rows of red lights indicating a lack of life signs and low pod integrity ratings.

These soldiers had been the final defenders of the Prothean civilisation. They had voluntarily stepped into stasis pods with their families with just a sliver of hope that they would one day wake and revive their fallen species, but instead had died in vain. She supposed it was a better way to go than being captured by the Reapers, but—

She sucked in a breath and zoomed in. There was something… Yes! There was a green light!

"Shepard?" Nathan queried.

"There might be…" she trailed off distractedly, bringing up the pod designation and craning her neck to find it. There… ten metres above her head. A faint white light.

She turned back to the terminal, fingers flying over the interface, instinctively relying on the Prothean Cipher to translate. The marines and Doctor Felishaw jumped as the rows of pods began to move, hidden gears grinding with centuries of disuse as they lowered the one she had spotted to the ground.

The pod slotted into grooves in the floor and slid forward. A few more taps on the interface and she had confirmed what she hadn't dared to hope – there were life-signs coming from within. They were faint, but they were definitely there.

She hesitated before beginning the process that would attempt to bring the pod's occupant out of stasis. She wished she had a way to contact Dr Chakwas. She was no medic. She had no way to know if the process of waking from stasis would harm the occupant or not. It could even kill them.

Doctor Felishaw noticed her hesitating. "Commander… is that what I think it is?" he asked in an awed whisper.

"Yes. A survivor," she murmured, fingers hovering with indecision. "A Prothean, male, of later middle-age. Trying to wake him up without the proper medical support could kill him."

Felishaw took a deep, cautious breath, moving up beside her. "The Protheans knew the Reapers operated in fifty thousand year cycles. They programmed the VI on Ilos to cut the power to stasis pods gradually, over thousands of years, so as to preserve at least a few. I think we can conclude that they were aware the occupants of these pods may not be able to be revived for many years. I am confident they would have adjusted the revival process accordingly."

The reasoning was tenuous, but he was right, and in the circumstances it was the best assurance she would get. They didn't have time to call in medical and Prothean experts. And… the information a living Prothean could provide was definitely worth the risk. She set her teeth. Thinking about it that way felt… cold. But also unquestioningly necessary. Quickly, she entered the command to begin the revival process.

A puff of air whooshed out of hidden vents in the pod as it settled, internal life support mechanisms adjusting to the first taste of outside air in thousands of years. Shepard moved closer as the lid began to retract. Nathan stepped up beside her, although she barely noticed his presence, focussed as she was on the pod.

For a few moments, nothing happened. The clouds of gas dissipated, leaving wisps floating over the pod below. Then finally two thick, gloved fingers appeared, grasping the lip of the pod. The fingers shook, then stilled, as if by conscious effort, and a figure emerged. Shepard watched cautiously, hand straying unconsciously toward her sidearm. He looked like a Collector.

No, that wasn't it… Collectors looked like aged, desiccated versions of _him_.

He had the same prominent, triangular forehead plating and angular bone structure, with pale blue-grey skin. He had a set of forward-facing yellow eyes and what looked like a secondary pair set just back from the first. His mouth was set with rows of narrow teeth, lips currently drawn back in a grimace. Whether it was pain, confusion or anger, Shepard couldn't tell.

She wasn't sure if it was the Cipher at work, or simple empathy, but she felt a sudden kinship with this Prothean. Barely a year ago she had woken from what she had thought was sedation or anaesthetic to completely unfamiliar surroundings, only to find two years had passed and she had actually been _dead. _She couldn't hope to understand what it was like for him to wake after fifty thousand years to a group of armed strangers standing over him, but she probably came closer than anyone else could.

On a hunch, she reached out and laid a careful hand on his arm.

He reacted violently, yelling something in what she assumed was Prothean and flinging some sort of green energy field at her. The force of it knocked her off her feet, sending her sprawling back into Nathan, but didn't seem to do any other damage. Nathan caught her and she leaped back up quickly, raising her arms in a gesture he would hopefully understand to mean that she meant no harm. Peripherally she was aware of her squad pulling weapons and shouting, but for the moment her focus was solely on the Prothean.

He snarled, leaping up out of the pod and staggering on unsteady legs. She instinctively moved to help, only for him to surge up and grab her exposed wrists. His fingers clamped down tight, and a bright light seemed to flash before her eyes.

_Collectors were pouring in through the heavy blast doors, firing strangely organic versions of particle beams and chittering madly as they advanced on the Prothean defenders. The sight of their transformed brethren returning to fight with the Reapers broke the morale of more than one defender. One by one the Protheans fell, and Shepard felt a choking, bone-crunching despair as she forced herself to retreat. Those were her brothers and sisters dying out there, all meant to accompany her through the long void and rise again to renew the glorious Prothean empire after the Reapers were long gone. Their lives were being utterly… wasted._

_She gave the order to Victory, the VI governor of the facility, to close the blast doors. The words tasted bitter in her mouth. The Reapers were winning, as she had known they would, but they were winning at a much faster rate than anticipated. The pods were still being loaded and no more than half were fully activated._

"_Alert. The north entrance has been damaged. I am unable to close the blast doors," Victory warned. "Reaper forces have breached primary defenses. Failsafe activated. I am firing the neutron charges in one minute. You must get to your pod, Commander Javik."_

_No, that wasn't enough time! Valuable soldiers still waited their turn to enter stasis. Every one of them would be needed for the new Empire. "Override!" she ordered, her voice sounding deeper and accented to her ears. "We'll keep them back ourselves. Just for a little longer."_

"_Negative. Neutron charge activation cannot be reversed. You have fifty-three seconds remaining. You must get to your pod, Commander Javik."_

_She wanted to curse against the feeling of utter helplessness coursing through her muscles, but knew that if the failsafe had been activated, the facility was about to be overrun. There was nothing more she could do. All their plans would be for naught if the Reapers managed to destroy the installation before the charges could sink it deep into the earth below._

_She ran for her pod, set aside and left untouched as befitted her rank. She ran past soldiers and their families as they began to panic, adults forcing their children into their own pods while they themselves took up weapons and moved to meet the incoming Reaper forces. Inwardly she cursed her people's falling back on their baser instincts and saving their offspring instead of their more valuable selves, but… she could understand it._

_She climbed into her pod and immediately felt herself beginning to grow drowsy as Victory activated the process that would place her body into stasis. The lid slid shut above her head, converting shouts and rifle fire to muffled wails and thuds. Once the neutron charges went off there would be nothing left. The facility would be cleansed, everything outside of the heavily shielded pods converted to dust and ash. She burned with anger at the thought of the wasted deaths of those of her brethren who had not managed to make it to a pod._

_As she drifted off into uneasy slumber, she heard Victory's voice as if through a deep, heavy haze. "You will be the voice of our people in the next cycle, Commander Javik."_

"_I will be more than that…" she murmured._

* * *

Nathan leaped forward, reaching for Shepard as the Prothean grabbed hold of her wrists and held on tight. She went rigid, seemingly every muscle in her body tensing up all at once. He gripped her shoulders, but at the last second stopped himself from forcibly pulling her away. The look in her eyes was not one of fear. They were glued to the Prothean's, hard, piercing, as if she was looking _through _him. If he was trying to do something to her, she seemed to be doing something right back.

He let her go reluctantly, stepping back but hovering close by just in case. Slowly he raised his rifle again, keeping it pointed unwaveringly at the Prothean. Sporritt and Ngandu were poised with their own weapons raised, eyes nervously flicking back and forth between Shepard and Nathan. Ngandu was wreathed in a flickering blue corona. "LT?" Sporritt asked.

Instead of responding, Nathan looked to the diminutive Doctor Felishaw, who was peering out from behind Ngandu. "Doctor? What's going on?"

"I… don't know," Felishaw admitted, brow furrowed. "The Commander seems to have lost her awareness of her surroundings, but so does the, ah, Prothean. I've never heard about it before, but perhaps the Protheans had a method of mind-to-mind contact, similar to the asari—"

Shepard gasped, mouth falling open in a wordless scream.

Nathan reacted quickly, dropping his rifle and lunging forward, hauling her back away from the Prothean. Sporritt and Ngandu were barking at the alien to back off, while Felishaw had ducked back behind his chosen protector. The Prothean was cringing, almost doubled over in what looked like pain, but he didn't seem to be reacting to either the weapons or the angry marines.

Nathan didn't particularly care about that right now. He gave Shepard a quick onceover, paying particular attention to the look in her eyes. There was anger, fear, revulsion, and… understanding? "Shepard?"

"I'm fine," she snapped, gaze glued on the blue-grey alien as she shook him off impatiently. "Commander Javik," she called.

That caught the Prothean's attention. Javik studied her for a moment before responding. "Commander Shepard." Nathan was surprised to hear him speaking English – or at least, some language his translator was able to comprehend well enough to convert to English.

She took a step towards him. "Do we need to keep our weapons pointed at you?" she asked, and Nathan was certain she already knew the answer to that. She just wanted him to acknowledge it – and the others to hear it. Carefully he backed off, retrieving his rifle from where he had dropped it and positioning himself so… Javik… would be caught in a cross-fire if he tried anything.

Javik seemed to consider it for a moment. When he replied, it was with the kind of frank honesty found only in those who have nothing left to lose and therefore nothing to fear. "No, you do not. I saw… you are fighting the Reapers."

She nodded. "We are."

"Many have died. You are failing." Nathan bristled at the accusatory tone.

"No." Shepard's voice was hard. "We are fighting. We're not beaten yet."

Javik straightened, imperious in his impressive crimson armour. "You found this place. Did you find the beacons? Were you prepared?"

The bitterness and anger in Shepard's voice was raw to Nathan's ears. "We found them. I tried to warn the galaxy. I tried to prepare."

"They did not listen?" Nathan could hear the incredulity in his tone.

Before Shepard could reply, however, a quick burst of static came from the comm implant in Nathan's ear. "_Commander, Jarvis here."_

She lifted a finger to her ear without removing her gaze from Javik. "Go ahead."

"_We have four incoming shuttles. No transponders but the paint jobs look like Cerberus colours."_

As Sporritt and Ngandu exchanged surprised glances, Nathan couldn't help but admire Jarvis' professionalism. As far as the three of them were aware, Cerberus was a terrorist organisation Commander Shepard may or may not have been working with, and Jarvis sounded completely unfazed at their arrival. Then again, Jarvis never seemed fazed by anything. Nathan would have to remember to explain it to them all later.

Shepard seemed to take the knowledge in stride, as if she had been expecting this. "All right. Have they seen you?"

"_I don't think so, ma'am."_

"Stay hidden for now, then. Stand by."

Felishaw seemed confident enough to step out from behind Ngandu now, although he kept one wary eye on Javik. "'They'? What's happening?"

"We have incoming Cerberus troops," Shepard explained quickly. "We need to get out of here fast, and preferably not back the way we came. We're well-equipped, but I don't want to have to deal with four shuttles worth of troops unless I really can't help it."

"Cerberus?" Javik repeated, sounding supremely irritated that he was lacking knowledge of the situation he was now in.

Shepard turned to the Prothean. "Commander Javik, I don't have time to explain everything right now, but we need your help to defeat the Reapers. Will you come with us?"

Javik's glance back toward the remaining pods spoke volumes, although he clearly tried to conceal it. "You are the only one left alive," Shepard told him gently, but bluntly. They didn't have time for niceties, but Nathan got the impression Javik wasn't much for niceties anyway.

The Prothean's eyes blinked slowly, but his voice was hard when he spoke. "I will come with you. I will have my vengeance."

The raw certainty in that statement sent shivers down Nathan's spine. He cleared his throat. "Is there a back way out of here?" he asked, looking around at the pods lining the walls. The little room they stood in seemed isolated from the rest of the facility, with the only exit being the way they had come in.

"When our scientists designed this facility to be sunk into the ground they also ensured its inhabitants would have a way out when they awoke. I will show you." Javik eyed Doctor Felishaw coldly. "The small one is not a soldier. He will slow us down. He must be left behind."

Nathan raised an eyebrow at that, and Doctor Felishaw bristled indignantly. Before he could say anything, Shepard interrupted in a tone that left no room for disagreement. "No. No one is left behind. Show us this exit."

Javik eyed Shepard for a moment, then slowly inclined his head. Nathan was surprised at the respect he saw in that gesture. Javik reached into his pod and pulled out a sleek, alien-looking weapon. Instantly Nathan and the other two marines had their own weapons raised and pointed at him again, but all he did was attach the rifle to his belt. Ignoring them, Javik stalked over to an alcove and waved a hand over what Nathan had thought was rock. A doorway slid open to reveal a narrow passage behind. "This way," Javik said.

Taking a couple of steps closer and peering in, Nathan could see the passage ended almost as quickly as it began. A ladder climbed upward, disappearing into green-lit twilight. He kept his wince to himself. Unless Doctor Felishaw was hiding a lot of muscle under all that weight, Javik was right about him slowing them down.

He certainly wasn't right about leaving him behind, though. He clapped a hand on the doctor's shoulder. "I'll help you," he promised.

"Good. Let's go," Shepard prompted, indicating for Javik to take point and following close on his heels. As she walked she keyed her comm. "Garrus, Dangerfield, report."

"_I see them, Commander," _came Garrus' reply. "_They're landing right where we did."_

"What about the archaeologists' shuttles?"

"_Gone."_

"Good. I want you and Dangerfield to meet up with Jarvis. We've got another way out. I'm marking our location on your map, but it'll take us a while to get there. Don't try and extract us until I give the word."

"_Got it. Hmm…"_

Nathan could hear the frown in Shepard's voice even if he couldn't see her face from his position as rear guard. "What is it?" she asked.

"_Might be nothing… but all four shuttles are down and none of them seem to be carrying their full complement of troops. Something's off."_

Weird. Why would Cerberus send four shuttles when they didn't have the troops to fill them? Nathan frowned.

"Cloaked troops?" she asked.

"_Maybe, but I don't see any signs of that. Normally I can spot a cloaked infiltrator from two klicks away."_

"All right, keep an eye on them," Shepard ordered. "As soon as they spot the main entrance I want to know about it. There's no way they could know about this exit, so we'll have a bit of a head start."

"_Will do. Garrus out."_

Up ahead, Javik began to climb, followed shortly by Shepard. Sporritt and Ngandu holstered their weapons and went next, then Felishaw and finally Nathan. Shepard didn't have to say anything; even Doctor Felishaw seemed to understand he had to move as quickly as he could. Cerberus wouldn't have come unprepared. They had to have something up their sleeves. Their lead wouldn't last long, and they had to get the last Prothean out to where he could do some good.


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter Thirty-Eight**

Ladders… christ, he was just about done with ladders.

Nathan heaved himself up another rung, feeling a drop of sweat slide down toward the tip of his nose. It felt like he had been climbing for hours, although he was pretty sure it had only been _maybe_ fifteen minutes. Glancing over his shoulder at his passenger, he was careful to let none of his frustration show. "How are you doing back there?"

At least Dr Felishaw had the good grace to look profoundly embarrassed by the whole situation. He shifted his weight slightly, readjusting the grip he had on the collar of Nathan's armour. His legs were braced on Nathan's heavy belt. "I'm perfectly fine, please don't worry about me. I really must thank you again, Lieutenant. I can't imagine how, uh, difficult this must be…"

"Don't mention it," Nathan grunted, climbing another rung. He was doing his best to keep up a steady pace, but Felishaw was a good deal heavier than the combined weight of all his guns, even if he added a grenade launcher to that calculation. Of course, for Felishaw to have room to cling to his back he had had to pass his guns up to Sporritt and Ngandu, so he was feeling a bit like a pack animal rather than a soldier right now.

"My turn next, Briggs," Sporritt offered cheerfully. The bastard didn't even sound out of breath.

"Shut up and climb," Nathan grumbled.

They had to be almost at the top. Which was a very good thing, seeing as how he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep going. Shepard had offered to spell him – her cybernetic enhancements meant she would be able to carry the heavy, round human just as well as he could despite her smaller frame – but he figured it would be better for the group if their commander wasn't utterly exhausted when they reached the top. They still had to get off the planet without running into Cerberus and she was the one who could make that happen.

Speaking of Cerberus, about five minutes after the group had started climbing Garrus had commed Shepard to warn her they had found the entry to the Prothean facility. So far there had been no sign of them, but it was only a matter of time until they caught up. Nathan wanted to be out of the ladder shaft before they did. He pushed hard, the others matching his slower pace.

"We are about to reach the exit," Javik announced, an edge to his imperious voice.

"Be careful, stay in cover if you can," Shepard warned. "Everyone else, quiet."

Nathan, Sporritt and Ngandu all stopped behind Shepard as Javik crept the remaining few metres up to the top of the ladder. He made some sort of motion with his hands and a low rumbling filled the shaft.

"What's that?" Shepard snapped, on edge. She had been on edge since they landed.

"It is our way out. A mechanical tunneller with an independent power supply. The designers of this place could not predict the shifting of the sands of this planet fifty thousand years into the future, so they deployed a contingency plan."

Shepard swore. "Your contingency plan is going to draw way too much attention to us." She activated her comm. "Jarvis, do you read?"

"_Yes, ma'am."_

"Come and get us, now."

"_Dangerfield isn't back yet, ma'am—"_

Dangerfield's voice cut in. "_I'm cut off from you, Jarvis. I'll meet you at the extraction point."_

"Copy," Shepard acknowledged. "Hurry, Private. Get moving, Jarvis. Javik, let's get out of here. Quickly."

The rumbling cut off and Javik made some more hand movements, and finally a hatch slid ponderously open with a grating of stone on stone. Dirt showered down onto their heads, setting Felishaw coughing and spluttering and shaking against Nathan's back. Nathan braced himself on the ladder and nodded in response to Felishaw's embarrassed apology.

As soon as there was room enough, Javik lifted himself up and out, followed closely by Shepard. "Clear for now," she called back down. "Come on."

Ngandu and Sporritt climbed out after her, leaving Nathan and the wheezing doctor on his back. He pulled himself up to the top of the ladder and flattened himself against it so Ngandu and Sporritt could haul Felishaw off his back and out of the shaft. He breathed a sigh of relief as his muscles throbbed with the sudden removal of their burden. He climbed out of the shaft and propped his hands on his knees, breathing hard.

The sudden sharp pull backwards on the collar of his armour followed by the prick of something sharp against his exposed throat came as a complete surprise. He found himself yanked suddenly down to his knees, collar held in an iron grip, some sort of blade at his throat. With a rush of adrenaline he went still, eyes darting from side to side in an attempt to see who – or what – had gotten the drop on him. His attacker had made no sound. In fact, he couldn't see the hand holding the sword – _sword_? - at all, which suggested a really good tactical cloak.

He must have made some sort of noise himself, because Shepard was suddenly whipping around, Mattock raised and in firing position. Her eyes filled with alarm for a moment before narrowing and turning icy cold.

He swallowed. _So this is what it's like, being on the wrong end of her gun. _

She was still as a statue as she stood there flanked by Javik and the other two marines, rifle straight and steady and unerringly pointed straight at him. His attacker must be small enough to be able to completely hide their own body behind his, if Shepard couldn't get a bead on them. He strained against the hold on his collar just a little, and was met with the immovable counter-force of the grip on his armour and the sharp edge of the sword at his throat. _No one that small is that strong, _he thought incredulously.

"Let him go," Shepard ordered, voice tight. "Now."

Nathan tried unsuccessfully to catch a glimpse of his elusive attacker in his peripheral vision. They didn't respond to Shepard but he could hear some sort of whirring, clicking sound that sounded like it was coming from a mechanical voicebox, similar to a VI. Was he being held hostage by some sort of mech controlled by a VI? It would explain the strength, but… No, that made no sense. Virtual intelligence systems had improved in leaps and bounds over the last few decades, especially in combat situations, but to this date no VI had the ability to utilise a tactical cloak effectively in combat.

And _what_ a tactical cloak. He had never seen one this good, and that was including Kasumi's own custom-built top-of-the-line version. The lack of troops on the shuttles suddenly made sense – the troops had been there after all. They had just been very well cloaked.

The whine of a shuttle's engines split the air overhead. Jarvis and Garrus, right on time. Ngandu and Sporritt craned their necks to see, but Shepard didn't move.

A three-round burst from her rifle suddenly scored the ground beside him. He almost jumped, tensing his muscles in an effort to remain still. "I know what you're trying to do," she warned his invisible assailant. "You need time for your friends to get here." She paused, and her voice was icy cold. "I'm not going to stand here and wait. You're outnumbered. One last chance to leave."

"Commander, why are you allowing this to continue?" Javik demanded impatiently from behind the three marines. "The success of our mission does not require this man's presence." He made an offhand gesture in Nathan's direction.

Nathan couldn't help glaring in the Prothean's direction, but when he returned his gaze to Shepard her eyes betrayed the fact that she knew Javik was right. She would leave him behind if she needed to. Hell, _he_ knew Javik was right too, but that didn't make it any easier to stare down the possibility of being left in the clutches of Cerberus, even if it was for the good of the mission. Nor the fact that Shepard would be the one doing it.

But she shook her head. "We don't leave anyone behind, Commander Javik," she told him firmly. She was speaking oddly slowly. "I just needed to… _Now_, Dangerfield."

The tone of her voice hadn't changed at all, but as she said the word 'now' a loud _boom _echoed over the top of the sound of the shuttle engines, coming from somewhere off to Nathan's nine o'clock. Abruptly the sword fell away and the hold on his armour loosened. He sprang into action, diving forward and throwing himself onto his back, omnitool raised and ready to throw an overload, the only weapon he had, back at his attacker.

As soon as he moved, though, Shepard opened fire. A small, slight woman fully covered head-to-toe in the lightest armour he had ever seen flew backwards with the force of Shepard's barrage. She thudded down onto the dirt before him, motionless, bleeding profusely from what looked to be multiple shots to the neck. He didn't see a shield generator on her belt; that first round had to have been intended to take out a biotic barrier so that Shepard could finish her off. Nathan crawled over and searched for a pulse, but he knew he wouldn't find anything. Shepard didn't miss.

"Good shot, Dangerfield," the Commander was saying over the comm as the sniper revealed herself from behind a tree a good hundred metres away. "Get moving, we need to get out of here."

"_Aye aye, ma'am," _came the response, and the distant figure broke into a run toward them.

As Nathan got to his feet, Shepard met his eyes for a moment, expression unreadable, before her eyes hardened once more. "Bring the body," she ordered.

He blinked. "The body? Why—"

"That thing had to have been behind us the whole time for it to get the drop on you like that," she explained, although she didn't sound too happy about having to do so. Her mood had turned decidedly sour over the course of this mission. "Not to mention that it was able to hold onto a marine half again its size and easily twice its weight. I want to know what… it… is."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied reluctantly, leaning over to hoist the body up and onto his shoulders.

* * *

Shepard found herself avoiding Nathan's eyes as they hurriedly boarded the shuttle and took off, Jarvis burning the thrusters hard as she raced the Cerberus shuttles to the safety of the mass relay. Watching as Nathan was held down with a sword to his neck had been frightening, very frightening. If that sword had slipped just slightly… she suppressed a grimace.

Seeing that hadn't been pleasant but what had been worse was how she had felt as she pointed her gun at him. She had stared directly down the barrel at a man she cared for a great deal, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that she would shoot him if it meant getting away from Cerberus with a living Prothean.

She hadn't lied earlier when she had told him she was prepared to send him to his death if it was necessary, that she had already done so once. But this had felt different. More… personal. If she was to pull the trigger, he wouldn't be dying as an indirect result of an order she gave, but because _she _had killed him. Herself. She shuddered.

Nathan was watching her, brow creased in thought. He probably knew exactly what she was thinking; he seemed to have a sixth sense for that. She wondered if he had been as affected by the situation as she had.

She turned away, ducking into the cockpit instead of trying to think of something to say to him about it. "How are we doing?" she asked Jarvis, who seemed just as casual and laidback as always despite the Cerberus shuttles on their tail and the cannon fire streaking past the viewscreen.

"It'll be a close one, but we'll make it," Jarvis replied confidently.

Shepard nodded, clapping a hand on her shoulder. "Good work. Any word from Captain Thuy?"

"Nothing, ma'am."

They hadn't been scheduled to rendezvous for a few hours yet, so that wasn't surprising. "Send him a message when we get close enough to a comm buoy. Let him know we've had to take a detour and give him our new location."

Jarvis glanced up at her. "Where will our new location be?"

"The latest reports show little to no Reaper activity in the Horse Head Nebula. Head there for now, we can hide our heat signature in the relay's mass effect fields until Thuy picks us up."

"Got it."

Shepard remained in the cockpit long enough to make sure they made it through the mass relay clean and there weren't any nasty surprises on the other side, then returned to the main passenger section. On the way out she passed Ngandu, who took her previous spot at Jarvis' side.

Dr Felishaw looked up as she entered, his hands fidgeting restlessly with the safety harness keeping him securely strapped to his seat. He was the only one who had bothered with it; clearly he wasn't entirely comfortable with space travel. "Commander?" he spoke up hesitantly, sombre voice filled with all the questions he no doubt wanted to ask and all the reassurances he probably needed to hear.

She took a seat across from him, next to Sporritt. "We got away, Doctor. We're going to wait in the shadow of Pax's mass relay in the Horse Head Nebula until Captain Thuy returns to pick us up. We'll be returning to the Citadel after that."

The rotund man breathed a sigh of relief at the mention of the Citadel. "Oh thank god. My team will be going there too." He paused, peering up at her. "I've never experienced something so… life-threatening before. I suppose you must be accustomed to it."

Shepard smiled wryly, leaning back in her jump seat. "You could say that."

He leaned forward over his bulk. "Commander, I don't know if I'll get another chance to say this so I want to say it now. _Thank you."_

She smiled but shook her head. "You're welcome, but Cerberus probably wouldn't have gone to Eden Prime at all if it wasn't for the attention we drew to it."

"No," Felishaw countered, "not for saving my life – though I do thank you profusely for that! I want to thank you for everything you're doing to defeat the Reapers. I can't imagine the kind of pressure you're under. I just want to make sure you know how grateful I am that you're doing what you're doing. I don't think I made that clear when we met. Even if… even if the Reapers end up winning. Just the fact that someone is trying despite how hopeless it seems… It means everything."

Shepard stared at him, touched by the sincerity in his voice, and momentarily lost for words. She found herself instinctively looking to Nathan despite the dubious looks he had been casting in her direction since the mission began. He had a strange little smile on his face as he watched her. It made her feel a little self-conscious. He noticed her hesitation, though, and spoke up himself. "They won't win," he said firmly. She found a smile blossoming on her face at the conviction in his voice. The faith he had in her was… nice.

Speaking of winning, the living Prothean they had found down on Eden Prime would go a long way toward ensuring they had a fighting chance at doing just that. They would be floating out here near the mass relay for a while; it was time to see what Javik could tell them.

He stared back at her, four reptilian eyes blinking slowly, guardedly. She tried to imagine what it must be like for him, having been woken up from a fifty-thousand year stasis only to find he was the last surviving member of his species. She wasn't sure she would be handling it quite so stoically. "Commander Javik," she began. "I understand you must be feeling disoriented—"

"Do not coddle me, Commander," he interrupted. "My feelings are irrelevant." The way he said the word 'feelings' left Shepard with no doubt about his disdain for any focus she might put on them. "The only thing that matters is the goal. The Reapers must be defeated."

"All right," she replied slowly, shifting to face him more squarely, armour scraping lightly against the metal of the jump-seat as she moved. "I need as much information as you can give me. Any successful tactics the Protheans employed, any details you can provide about Reaper forces. But most importantly, I need information on the Crucible. We're building it on little more than faith, really." She shook her head ruefully at the absurdity and sheer desperation of _that_. "If you know anything about what it does or what the Catalyst is, I need to know."

Javik frowned impatiently. "'Crucible'?" he repeated.

Of course, how could he know what that name referred to? It had been named 'Crucible' by this cycle's inhabitants, not his. She brought up her omnitool and projected a display of the plans they had found on Mars.

He studied them silently for a while, and she watched as comprehension dawned. "Ah. I was a warrior, not a scientist," Javik told her, more thoughtful than confrontational this time. "But I was a very highly ranked warrior. I was assigned the honour of leading the new Prothean Empire after my brethren and I were awoken from cryostasis." Shepard raised her eyebrows at that, but Javik's tone was completely matter-of-fact, any sense of pride in the rank noticeably absent. "I was briefed on this project – the Hammer of the Empire is what we called it – before I was assigned to the Resurgence Effort. The Hammer is designed to take advantage of the technology the Reapers provided, and with it ensure their destruction."

Shepard frowned, lowering her omnitool. There was a lot she wanted to question, but she had to focus on the more important things. "Take advantage of Reaper technology? How does it do that?"

"I presume you found out the hard way that the Citadel is a larger and more powerful mass relay when it facilitated the Reapers' arrival—"

"Actually Commander Shepard prevented that," Dangerfield piped up. All eyes turned to her, and she seemed to shrink a little in her seat. "Well, she did…"

Javik cocked his head in interest as he returned his gaze to Shepard. "That is… impressive," he admitted grudgingly. "How did the Reapers arrive, then?"

"The hard way," Shepard said firmly before Dangerfield could interrupt and rehash the still-painful memory of the decision she had made over Aratoht. "What does the Citadel have to do with the Crucible?"

"The Citadel is what you call the Catalyst."

_What? _Shepard blinked, sucking in a surprised breath. The Citadel was the key? Again? When she thought about it, it was obvious, and had her furiously berating her own obliviousness.

Javik continued, unaware. "As a mass relay, it has the ability to generate and focus mass effect fields of immense size. It is also, of course, connected to the relay network. Our scientists were able to repurpose that energy to enable the Crucible to send out thousands of QEC pulses via the relay network, using the central power core of each Reaper as an end-point."

The shuttle was deathly silent as Javik spoke. Shepard found herself holding her breath as his words began to register. It was Nathan who spoke up. "How does a QEC pulse kill a Reaper?" he murmured.

"The code held within each pulse forces certain normally-benign functions to activate. To be specific, the abundance of Reaper technology available to study enabled us to design a method to turn a Reaper's mass effect fields against it, resulting in its implosion and complete destruction."

"A kill-switch," Sporritt breathed.

Shepard bit the inside of her lip as her mind worked a mile a minute to process this new information. It all sounded way too good to be true, which left her with one important question. "If you had this capability, why were you defeated?" she asked quietly.

Javik seemed to deflate slightly. She wondered if he was suddenly reminded of his situation: the last remaining member of his species after all his brethren had been killed. All his friends, his family. Everything he knew had been destroyed. "The Reapers are… well-practised in achieving their genocidal goal. They were prepared for attacks of this nature and well-armoured against them. We fired the Crucible… and it failed."

The silence on the shuttle was sharp and brittle. "Shit," Nathan swore quietly. Sporritt kicked a bulkhead in frustration and Dangerfield almost looked as though she was about to cry.

Shepard sat back, frowning. The Crucible had failed, which would seem to indicate that all their efforts at building it had been wasted. She knew she should be reacting in the same way, but something inside of her rebelled. She wasn't sure what it was, some sort of innate fighting spirit maybe, or even just pure stubbornness, but she refused to believe it was all over. "Well-armoured how?" she pressed, ignoring the despondency surrounding her.

Javik watched her intently, and in him she recognised that same stubbornness. He understood his situation very well, but it wouldn't stop him from following through on his promise to be more than the last voice of his people. He would stop at nothing to defeat the Reapers, once and for all. "We do not know," he admitted.

Nathan was now watching her curiously. "What are you thinking?" he asked.

She stared back at him for a moment. "We're not done," she finally said, and hearing the conviction spoken aloud in her own voice only reinforced her determination. "We need to find out what this 'armour' is and work out how to take it down. If we can do that, the Crucible will work."

"We can beat them," Dr Felishaw, who had been listening silently, spoke up. He sounded surprised by his own voice.

Shepard nodded firmly. "We can beat them."


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter Thirty-Nine**

Captain Thuy never made it to the rendezvous.

They sat in the shadow of the mass relay for hours, vulnerable in their tin-can of a shuttle with its single cannon, until Shepard finally had to order them back to the Citadel. The ride back was tense and quiet. They heard nothing from Thuy, and their tiny shuttle didn't have the comm equipment to enable Shepard to get in touch with Alliance command, so Nathan, Dangerfield, Jarvis, Ngandu and Sporritt were left in the dark about what had happened to their squadmates. As soon as they made it back on board the _Normandy_, however, they got the news Nathan had been dreading. Thuy's ship had been destroyed, all hands lost.

It was with a weight pressing heavily on his chest that Nathan showed the only surviving members of his old team to their new bunks on the _Normandy_.

The only surviving members. It didn't seem real yet. He had just been reunited with his squad and now… now most of them were gone.

Shepard had requested the surviving members be transferred to her command. Hackett hadn't yet granted that request, but she had reassured Nathan that it was almost certain to go through. He knew she had no need for more marines; she had almost certainly put the request in for him, and he was grateful for that.

"In here," he directed listlessly as the door to one of the secondary crew bunk rooms slid open before him. They trudged inside and half-heartedly claimed bunks. Dangerfield slumped down onto one, tossing her duffel at the end of the bed. She stared angrily at the gleaming gunmetal grey surfaces and crisp white sheets as if the famous _Normandy_ had no right to be so new and exciting when most of her team was dead. Ngandu climbed onto the bunk above hers, angry too, but more vocal about it. "All of them!" he exclaimed. "They're all _dead_! What the fuck was Thuy thinking? How could he let himself be ambushed like that?"

"He was just following orders, mate," Jarvis said tiredly. She was calmer than the others but there was still a noticeable slump in her posture. She didn't seem quite as laidback as she normally did. She and Sporritt claimed another set of bunks, Sporritt on top. The engineer climbed up and sat back against the wall without saying anything, drawing his knees up loosely before him. Nathan knew that posture. Spore liked to know the answers to everything, and this was something he had no answer for. He didn't know what to do.

Neither did Nathan, to tell the truth. He slumped down onto a spare bunk, resting his elbows on his knees. His team… they had been together for two years. He had been so proud to be promoted to its command. He had taught Private Shanti how to mod her favourite pistol to be lighter. He had gone out drinking with Harris, Shaw and Bailiss on a regular basis. He and Lee had been jogging buddies on and off for months. Now they were all gone. It probably hadn't even been much of a fight. Thuy's ship hadn't been nearly as well-equipped as the _Normandy_. He wouldn't have lasted ten seconds against a Reaper. They would have been slaughtered.

"Fuck. This sucks," he finally swore thickly. Ngandu and Jarvis nodded quietly, while Dangerfield's eyes began to water. Sporritt didn't move.

"What are we supposed to do now?" Dangerfield muttered in a shaky voice.

Despite the ache in his chest, Nathan felt the old instincts begin to take over. He wanted to look out for his team and that meant trying to restore their spirits, even if his own had sunk just as low as theirs. "We keep going," he told her firmly. "You're all under Commander Shepard's command now. You're going to be right on the frontlines."

Ngandu nodded, mouth pressed into a hard line. "Good. I want to kill Reapers," he said simply. Jarvis nodded in agreement.

If the fire of revenge could help them get past their grief and keep fighting, Nathan would use it. Hell, he was feeling it himself. "Well, Shepard is good," he added. "Very good. We'll get wins. We'll kill Reapers," he promised fervently.

Sporritt snorted, and Nathan looked over in surprise as the engineer began to laugh. "Shepard. Everyone loves Shepard. She's not a fucking superhero," he argued, bitterness lacing the forced mirth in his tone. "She got the whole fucking turian fleet destroyed at Palaven! Or are you too busy kissing her ass that you've forgotten that?"

The room went suddenly silent. Ngandu and Jarvis were staring at Sporritt with raised eyebrows, Dangerfield glaring at the disparagement of her hero. Nathan's own temper flared. "You've got no idea what you're talking about," he replied, his own voice rising despite his best intentions. "It wasn't Shepard's fault. _No one_ could have won at Palaven!"

"Then why the hell did she insist on going there?" Sporritt demanded, ignoring the glares. "What was the goddamn point?" Nathan had never heard Sporritt swear so much in his life.

"We had a way to destroy the fucking things, Spore! At least, we thought we did." Nathan shook his head, his own bitterness rising up like acid at the back of his throat. They had thrown the full might of the turian and krogan forces against the Reapers that day, and the Reapers had just brushed it aside as though it was mildly inconvenient. He had no doubt they had done the same to his squad on Thuy's ship. His friends. "Do you realise how much stronger than us they are?" he asked, hearing the anger fall away from his tone as he spoke. "We're a… a _resource_ to them. They squash us like insects and turn us into their own troops while they sit up there in space, untouchable, obliterating anything that even gets _close_. Do you know just how amazing it was for us to have what we thought was a proven way to destroy them?"

Sporritt sighed, deflating. He nodded reluctantly. "Yeah. I get that. Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm just… so _angry. _I don't even really understand what these Reaper things _want!_"

"They just want to kill us, man," Nathan replied, shaking his head. "That's it. They don't want our worlds or our ships or our materials. They want to exterminate us."

"We're like a nest of ants to them," Dangerfield murmured. "We serve no purpose and we bite if stepped on. To them, we need to be exterminated."

"Yep," Nathan drawled.

The room was silent for a while as they all took that in. Finally Jarvis spoke up. "I don't really understand how you got here, Briggs, how you came to be serving with Commander Shepard, but you seem to know a hell of a lot more than we do. Want to fill us in?"

Nathan nodded. He settled back against the bulkhead and told them the story from the beginning.

* * *

Shepard stepped forward into holo range of the comms terminal and saluted. Admiral Hackett returned the salute. "_Shepard. Give me an update. What did you find on Eden Prime?"_

She took a cautious breath. "It was both better and worse than I was hoping, Admiral," she began. She briefed him on Javik and his revelations about the Crucible.

The Admiral paced before her, hands clasped behind his back, fading in and out of the holo as he moved out of range. "_So the Citadel is the Catalyst. You're right, it seems blatantly obvious in hindsight, but then again, hindsight is always perfect."_

"Yes sir," she agreed grimly.

"_It doesn't matter, though, because even if we fire the Crucible, it won't work until we can take down this mystery armour of theirs,"_ Hackett grumbled aloud, frowning in thought. "_Look, Shepard, I'm no scientist, but something about this doesn't seem right. I think we're missing something."_

Shepard frowned herself, cocking her head and staring at nothing in particular as she thought. "What about the turian scientists investigating the Reaper we downed on Menae?" she asked. "Have they found anything helpful?"

"_No," _he told her, the frustration obvious in his voice. "_Energy signatures are off the charts but there's nothing they can find that could be causing those readings." _He snorted. "_It doesn't help that they haven't even been able to access half the compartments on board, no matter what they try – hacking, explosives, hell, they've tried crow-bars. Whatever's generating so much energy has to be behind a locked door somewhere, metres away from them, but they can't get to it."_

Shepard grunted. "Sounds like a defensive mechanism. The Reaper must have deployed it as a failsafe. Have the scientists managed to come up with _any _useful data?"

"_Some. The material composition of a Reaper, the inner design, and a little on indoctrination."_

Shepard shook her head. Not much, then. "If you send me a copy of the data, sir, I'll have EDI look at it as well. She collected a lot of data over the course of our mission against the Collectors. She might be able to turn something up that the scientists missed."

Hackett nodded. "_Good idea. I'll send it over. Speaking of the Collectors, I don't like allowing the Reapers access to such an abundant source of troops, especially when we can actually do something about it. If there's another base out there, I want it taken out."_

"Yes sir, there is another base and it's…" She couldn't help a frustrated noise. "Well, it's on my to-do list. You remember Tali'Zorah vas'Normandy and the geth, Legion?" Hackett nodded cautiously. "I've received a lot of data from them on this new base and I just don't have the resources to go after it yet. I won't treat this like another suicide mission, sir, I want enough troops and firepower to take it out with minimal loss of life and hardware."

"_I'm with you on that, Shepard. On that point, I read your report on the mercenary situation. You really think the Blood Pack, Blue Suns and Eclipse are the resources you need to take back Irune?"_

Shepard grimaced. She had decided to head to Irune next, to the delight of the volus ambassador Din Korlack, and she knew she would need ground troops and a small fleet to pull it off. She wasn't at all sure that the mercenaries would cut it herself but they _were _warm bodies with a bit more combat experience than the average civilian, and they also brought a sizeable fleet to the table when combined. "They're competent fighters, sir, and I'm confident I can keep them in line with Aria backing me. In any case, if we're lucky the only time we'll need to rely on them in pivotal roles will be in the battle for Irune. Nowhere else. If we can take Irune back, I'm hoping it'll convince some of the non-Council races to provide support."

"_And after that, the asari and salarians,"_ Hackett finished, nodding in reluctant agreement. _"Well, it'll get the job done. I suppose I don't have to like it. Do Tali'Zorah and Legion know what the geth and quarians are planning? Do they intend to join us?"_

"They haven't said anything, sir, but they're coming on board shortly. I'll find out."

"_Keep me updated. All right, that's all, Shepard."_ Hackett paused. _"Good luck on Irune, although I don't think you'll need it."_

Shepard suppressed a faint smile at that. The compliment was brief, but genuine, and it was good to hear coming from her unofficial mentor. "Thank you, Admiral."

"_Hackett out."_

Shepard spun and headed back out of the comms room into the war room. As she walked she spoke, directing her voice vaguely in the direction of the ceiling and the _Normandy's_ hidden voice pickups. "Did you get that package of intel, Traynor?" she asked.

"_Yes, ma'am. I've forwarded it to our specialists," _Traynor responded.

EDI's voice cut in._ "I too have begun analysing the data, Shepard. I am running a more detailed analysis than usual. I estimate it will take some time, or a significant amount of my processing power."_

"That's all right, EDI. It's important, but preparations for Irune take priority right now." Shepard entered the security checkpoint, nodding to the two security guards as the scanner cycled through.

"_Of course, Commander. I will notify you as soon as I have something significant to report."_

The door to the CIC slid open and Shepard strode through, running through the ever-growing list of things she needed to do in her head. The CIC was bustling with activity, the first shift busy with preparations for the Normandy to disembark. Repairs to the hull and the plasma venting system had been completed ahead of schedule, and Shepard didn't want to waste any more time sitting docked at the Citadel before heading to Irune. As soon as they were fully stocked and all passengers and crew were aboard, she planned to leave. "Traynor, any word on that transfer request yet?" she asked as she approached her terminal. Garrus was just stepping out of the elevator; she nodded in his direction.

"Shepard!" came a very un-Admiral-like exclamation from the opposite end of the bridge.

Startled, Shepard peered around the side of the _Normandy_ holo to find the newly-minted Admiral Tali'Zorah vas'Normandy hurrying down the steps into the CIC proper. She was followed closely by Legion, who somehow managed to appear pleased despite a total lack of facial expression.

Grinning, Shepard stepped out from behind the map to meet Tali, Garrus right behind her. The quarian flung her arms around her and squeezed her tight. She laughed, a little surprised but pleased at the enthusiastic greeting. "Tali, I'm glad to see you," she said. "You too, Legion," she added with a nod in the geth's direction.

"It's good to see you too, Shepard! I was worried after I heard about Palaven," Tali replied, gripping her shoulders and holding her back at arm's length. The quarian's head was angled in that particular way that meant she was grinning beneath her faceplate. She released Shepard and shifted her attention to Garrus next, pulling him into an embrace as well. "Garrus. I'm very happy to see that you're not hurt either."

"Palaven was a close one," he admitted. "Too close for some."

Tali's posture slumped slightly at that. "Wrex."

"Wrex," Shepard agreed sadly.

"He went out the same way he lived – with strength, bravery and conviction," Garrus added firmly.

Shepard nodded, smiling wistfully. "He did. You're right. We should be celebrating his life, rather than mourning his death."

"Yes," Tali agreed. "He would want us to kick these Reaper _bosh'tets_ right back into dark space. We should get on with that."

"Right." Shepard couldn't help smiling. There was something about Tali's innocent cheerfulness that always managed to lift her mood. "I'm glad you both agreed to come back on board the _Normandy_. We're packed in a bit tightly these days but I managed to have one of the staterooms set aside for you, Tali, as befits your new rank." Shepard winked at her and got the distinct impression she was rolling her eyes. "And EDI spends most of her time up on the bridge with Joker these days, Legion, so you're welcome to your old spot in the AI Core."

The geth cocked his head to one side as Shepard began leading them to the elevator. "Acknowledged. Shepard-Commander, I understand the Enhanced Defence Intelligence has become a physical addition to your crew," he commented.

"Yes, EDI managed to get herself a body," Garrus responded with only a slight touch of dryness to his tone. "Joker is a fan."

"I would like to examine the nature of the processes it ran to come to this consensus. It previously did not indicate a desire to possess a physical platform. I will attempt to engage it in discussion."

Shepard stopped, staring at Legion. "Wait, Legion, you're referring to yourself as 'I', not 'we'. Was your programming adjusted?"

"No," Legion responded in his customary blunt manner. Shepard looked to Tali for clarification.

"Legion has been spending a lot of time with me and a squad of quarian marines lately," Tali explained. "He has… expanded his knowledge of organic relations and vocabulary, although sometimes it doesn't seem like it." Her wry tone turned grim. "The Reapers attacked the geth. They tried to deploy the same code they used to turn the geth heretics against us in the fight against the Collectors. Legion and I were able to counter it by infiltrating the heretics' central server and using the Reaper code to disseminate Legion's own personality out to the corrupted geth."

"A consensus was reached to also deploy this code to the geth collective as a whole," Legion added. "We are now… upgraded. I am still a part of the collective, but I have the ability to distinguish myself. The set of programmes running on this platform are perceived to be mine. I will adjust them as needed and share data on my performance with the collective."

Like an individual AI. One among many. _Legion. _That was an interesting development, but Shepard wasn't sure she liked how it came about. "I'm happy for you, Legion, but… Reaper code?" she interjected. "You deployed _Reaper_ code to every single geth platform in the galaxy?"

"No no no," Tali replied quickly. "It bore very little resemblance to _Reaper_ code by the time we were done with it. We just borrowed the… framework, you could say."

Shepard nodded a little doubtfully. She trusted both Tali and Legion – there was no way they would disseminate Reaper code to all the geth in the galaxy if it posed even the _slightest _danger, but she couldn't help but worry about it anyway. The stakes were just too high. "All right. Look, I need to get you both caught up on where things stand with the fight," she told them, shaking off her fears for now. "Come up to my cabin, we can talk there. Garrus, you too."

* * *

Hours later, after Tali had been shown her stateroom and Legion had returned to the AI core, Shepard finally managed to find Nathan bent over the weapons bench in the shuttle bay. He was concentrating on modding something or other and didn't look up as she entered, despite how quiet the shuttle bay was. They appeared to be the only ones there.

She came up beside him and leaned a hip on the bench, peering down at the Black Widow lying in pieces on its lit surface. "That looks familiar," she murmured.

Without stopping his work, he nodded. "It's Dangerfield's. She wanted a little more kick to the projectiles, a little more armour-piercing capability." He chuckled humourlessly to himself. "At least, she said she did. I guess I used to do this for Private Shanti, who…" he trailed off.

Shepard understood. Dangerfield had asked Nathan to do this not because she needed it, but because she thought it would help him work through his grief. She laid a hand on his shoulder for a moment, lending him her strength.

She watched him work. He made some adjustments to the barrel before carefully piecing the rifle back together again. His movements were steady and meticulous, and he seemed calm, but she knew he was anything but. He had just experienced more loss than he had ever had to deal with in his life, and all at once. She wanted to help him through it, but had an idea that the words she would have used to console a crew member wouldn't be sufficient here. The best she could come up with was to just be there for him. To be with him.

"So we're heading to Irune next?" he asked as he worked.

She nodded. "Yes. Ambassador Din Korlack offered to lend us a local guide, who'll be coming aboard shortly. As soon as he arrives, we'll leave. The mercs'll meet us at the relay and send over their ground teams."

"Right," Nathan muttered noncommittally, sighting through the scope of the reassembled rifle. Satisfied, he returned it to the weapons rack nearby then moved to lean against the weapons bench beside her, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn't meet her eyes. "This is hard," he said finally.

Shepard couldn't help feeling a pang of apprehension at that. "What's hard?" she asked carefully.

He waved his hand vaguely before him. "This… all of this. This life. This war. You and me."

She swallowed, but had to agree. "Yeah. It is."

"How do you deal with… losing people? People you care about?"

She hated the pain she could see in his eyes. _Hated _it. But she did know the answer to his question. When she lost Ash, when she lost Wrex, she had made it through the same way. "You let the people you love help you through it," she told him quietly.

She realised what she had just said almost immediately, and felt her cheeks warming even as she opened her mouth to gloss over it. But almost as quickly, she closed it again, realising she didn't want to take it back. She wasn't just falling for Nathan anymore, she had fallen. Fallen hard. She was in love with him.

He was smiling at her through the sadness in his eyes when she finally made herself look up at him again. Wordlessly he kissed her, and she leaned into it, somehow understanding everything he was trying to tell her with that kiss. All the love, affection and admiration she felt for him was returned tenfold. "I love you too," he murmured against her lips.


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter Forty**

Shepard was already sweating, and they had only touched down on Irune maybe thirty minutes ago. They had been slogging through a densely overgrown jungle since then, doggedly following their tiny volus guide as he confidently ducked under low-hanging branches and nimbly dodged between the mangled whorls of what passed for tree trunks on this planet. It felt as though the very planet was weighing her down, closing in on her – and in a way, it was. Irune's gravity was rated at almost one point five times that of Earth. Without the gravity-lessening effect of the basic mass effect field generators Tali and Engineer Daniels had jury-rigged to each of their belts Shepard knew she would be sweating a whole lot more.

But it wasn't just the increased gravity contributing to her discomfort. The squat, tangled nature of the vegetation combined with the seemingly lower-hanging dark violet sky above both contributed to a feeling of claustrophobia, even for someone accustomed to spending extended periods shipboard. She didn't enjoy feeling so… confined.

But, like most things, she couldn't spare the time to deal with that right now so she pushed it aside and focussed on the mission ahead. Hefting her Mattock, she strode ahead to keep pace with their guide, the biotic commando Lan Kovus. She had been surprised but impressed to find out such a thing existed. "How much further?" she asked, managing with supreme effort to keep any obvious discomfort from her voice.

"Only two of your kilometres, Earth-clan," Kovus replied, bounding easily over a fallen trunk.

Shepard climbed over the same trunk as best she could, one step at a time, marvelling at the strangeness of hearing a volus speak without the usual rasping hiss of a rebreather. Instead of the ubiquitous pressure suit, Kovus wore an environmental suit only, which was lightly armoured and didn't come with a helmet. Big, round brown eyes melted into thick, tough midnight-black skin broken only by a thin-lipped mouth and three small openings she assumed were nostrils. Rather than giving him an air of vague ridiculousness as the pressure suits she was accustomed to seeing would have, he appeared hardy and capable. At home in his own environment.

It was disconcerting having the tables turned like this, with the usually comical volus suddenly confident and adept while the rest of the party struggled. She was sure Mordin would find it fascinating, if he were here.

Shepard glanced back over her shoulder at the long line of her team trailing back through the jungle. She had been forced to leave the biotic specialists – Jack, Samara and Ngandu – back aboard the _Normandy_. The addition of the mass effect field generators to their armour would have affected their sense of gravity just enough to make their biotics all but unusable, and if they went without they would tire out too quickly to be of any use. Miranda was with the team, but her combat, command and technical expertise made up for the temporary inability to use her biotics.

Shepard had also decided to leave EDI on the ship. There was a single Reaper destroyer lurking somewhere near the relay – if it wasn't for the _Normandy's_ stealth systems, they wouldn't have made it down to the planet. As soon as she called in the ragtag but powerful fleet Aria's mercenaries had assembled, the destroyer would be on them. The fleet should be able to handle a single destroyer, but Joker would need to keep it as off balance as possible to give them a fighting chance. He would need all the help he could get, and EDI could provide that help.

Tali and Legion were both on the ground team. Tali seemed to be handling the increased gravity and mild claustrophobia the best out of everyone, most likely due to her familiarity with enclosed environments. Legion was struggling a little with the jungle but seemed to be coping well enough with Garrus' help. Garrus was sticking close and offering a hand where necessary, but as they moved Legion was learning. His movements were gradually getting quicker and more precise. Soon he would be navigating the unfamiliar terrain as easily as their volus guide.

Her team was large, but the mercenary ground teams currently being dropped closer to their eventual target were far larger. It had been a tight squeeze in the _Normandy's_ shuttle bay and it would require multiple shuttle drops to get them to the surface even with two shuttles, but they would be the hammer of this operation. Shepard's team would be slipping in while the Reapers were distracted, sneaking up and overwhelming them from behind.

But before they did that, they had an important detour to make. They were currently en route to a bunker that had so far remained completely hidden from the Reapers. Barricaded within were dozens of veteran volus bomber pilots. Their goal was to escort these pilots to their fighters so they could unleash the full might of the volus bombing fleet on the Reaper occupiers.

Something had been nagging at Shepard ever since the plan was decided on, however. "How did your pilots manage to survive the attack and get to the bunker?" she asked Lan Kovus as she ducked below some overhanging vegetation. "If I understand correctly, the base was overrun very quickly."

Kovus was a shade short of smug as he replied. "The volus have been fighting air battles for centuries. There are escape routes built into the bedrock beneath the base."

"But the Reapers attacked by land, not air," Nathan commented from her left flank.

"The entrance to the escape tunnels is not obvious, of course," Kovus explained patiently, as if to a student. "They were able to get in without being seen initially. Then, when they were discovered… sacrifices were made to ensure the entrance was destroyed. That is also why we cannot return the same way we came."

Shepard winced. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely. Irune had been overrun so easily because most volus were simply incapable of fighting a land war. It made sense that the only way they could keep the Reapers back was to make some difficult sacrifices.

Kovus made a noise of acknowledgement as he moved around a thick tree trunk, but didn't respond. Shepard continued, mind turning to logistics. "So we won't be able to use the tunnels to get back in," she agreed, thinking aloud. "We'll have to go overland instead."

"That shouldn't be too much of a problem," Miranda noted confidently. "Volus seem far more agile on their home planet than they do anywhere else."

Shepard made an exasperated noise. Miranda could be very… blunt at times. She cast Miranda a reproachful look before adding, "Which is of course due to the necessity of the pressure suits rather than any lack of innate ability." Miranda rolled her eyes.

"Uh, yes," Kovus agreed, appearing to take no offense. "In any case, Lieutenant Lawson is correct. It will not be a problem. We have sufficient ground transport for all. It won't take more than fifteen of your standard galactic minutes to reach the base from the bunker."

"And when we get you there, you all hop in your bombers and blow the Reapers to hell," Nathan finished for him.

"That's the plan," Shepard confirmed, when Kovus abruptly came to a stop before a raised mound covered in dirt, leaves and branches. Shepard had to pull up short to avoid bowling him over. The mound looked exactly like the myriad other lumps and bumps in the jungle floor but when Kovus cleared the detritus away a solid metal hatch was revealed beneath. He pulled it open and they all carefully climbed in.

Shepard felt the muscles in her legs tighten in protest as she stepped onto the suddenly hard and unyielding permacrete floor. She was tired, more tired than she had anticipated, even with the addition of the mass effect field generator on her belt. Her team seemed to also be feeling the effects as they entered behind her, stepping heavily onto the less-forgiving floor.

"Just through here, Commander," Kovus said, striding confidently ahead, down a hall and through a short doorway. Shepard had to duck to follow him. Nathan and Garrus had to bend almost double.

They entered a larger than expected room filled to the brim with volus, _far_ more than the couple dozen she had been expecting. They occupied every available surface, some lying, clearly injured, some pacing, some standing in small groups and talking quietly. As Shepard and her team entered, they all looked up.

The naked hope in their eyes had Shepard's own eyes narrowing, anger flaring without warning. "Kovus… there are far more of your people here than we discussed," she murmured harshly. They hadn't planned for this!

His big black eyes turned shrewd as he returned her accusatory stare, but it was a shrewdness born of a perceived necessity rather than any sort of malice. "If you had known how many were here, would you have agreed to help us?"

"Yes, but I would have been able to plan for it," she replied firmly, surprised. "This is not something you need to negotiate your way out of."

He blinked, a shadow of surprise passing through his expression before quickly dissipating. "Everything is a negotiation."

"Not this," she insisted quietly.

"You are not saving us out of just the kindness of your heart, Commander Shepard. You want our bombing fleets and our dreadnought," he argued.

"Yes, I do," she agreed, uncomfortable with just how true that statement was. She could feel Nathan's eyes on her as she responded, and she found herself wanting to keep from disappointing him. He had told her he understood that she sometimes had to make hard decisions and that he had her back, but still… "But you are not obligated to provide either."

Kovus' piercing brown eyes didn't waver for a few long moments, and she imagined the mind working beneath trying to come to terms with something almost completely alien to volus culture: the concept of helping someone in need without expecting anything in return. It was true, she was hoping to gain volus support and wider galactic recognition for her actions on Irune today. She _was_ hoping to receive something in return. But she was not _demanding _it.

"We did not expect you to escort all of us on foot," Kovus finally continued. He headed out into the sea of curious and hopeful volus faces, leading them through a hallway and into another section of the bunker. This one was smaller and packed to the brim with all-terrain ground vehicles. There were seven in total, all squat, heavily armoured tanks with wheels almost as big as the bodies of the vehicles themselves.

She stepped up to one of them and eyed it appreciatively. "All right. These'll do the job nicely," she murmured, glancing at Tali, who had hurried up beside her.

"I've heard of these," Tali muttered half to herself. "But I'd never seen one until now. They're volus-manufactured variants on the krogan taunkah vehicle. Modified extensively to be able to navigate dense jungle and withstand concentrated artillery fire…" The quarian engineer trailed off and began circling the vehicle, studying it from every angle. She even slipped beneath a wheel chassis to get a look underneath the cabin. When she darted nimbly back out again, she was wiping gloved hands together with an unmistakeable air of satisfaction. "They're good, Shepard," she confirmed. "They won't withstand a Reaper beam but they will most other things."

"They were designed to survive a direct hit from a volus-made cluster bomb," Kovus told them, a hint of pride touching his voice. "Each one carries up to twenty passengers… uh, you all count as two each."

"Did he just call us fat?" Shepard heard Kasumi mutter quietly. Zaeed snorted.

Shepard stifled a quick grin before activating her helmet comm. They were on a tight schedule here, everything needed to be coordinated well for this to work. "Blue Suns, Blood Pack, Eclipse. Report," she ordered.

The response came a lot slower and far more casual than she would have liked, but she guessed that was just petty rebellion. "_Vosque here. Suns are in position. Awaiting your order, Commander." _Shepard grimaced to herself, exchanging glances with Miranda, who rolled her eyes. The man's tone was dripping with smarminess even standing in the middle of a battlefield.

"_This is Gryll. Blood Pack is ready," _came the hissing response from the vorcha leader of the Blood Pack.

"_Eclipse standing by, Commander," _the steady tones of the salarian Sayn, who had overthrown the notorious Jona Sederis with Aria's assistance, finalised the trio of responses. From what she had heard of Sederis, Shepard was glad the asari was safely rotting away in a C-Sec jail cell rather than under her command.

She nodded to herself. "We're about to head out. Be ready to move in ten."

The three mercenary leaders acknowledged the order relatively quickly, leaving Shepard marvelling at Aria's ability to coerce or command loyalty from such diverse sources. She knew Nathan had been concerned about the intentions of the mercenaries – she had too, if she was honest – but she doubted she would have any problems with them after all, thanks to Aria.

She looked to Kovus as she snapped her Mattock into place on her back. "Get your people loaded, we need to move now."

He hurried back out of the garage, leaving Shepard and her team alone for the moment. Nathan leaned up against the tank nearby. Jarvis, Sporritt and Dangerfield hovered close, uncertain of their new team environment, although Jarvis still managed to appear supremely laid back.

"We're going to split up between three of the tanks," she announced loudly to get everyone's attention. "Four per tank. Tali, Legion, Sporritt, with me." Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Sporritt shift nervously, probably at the idea of being on her team without the familiar presence of his former commander. There wasn't much she could do about that. He would just have to get used to her. "Second tank, Miranda, James, Nathan, Dangerfield." Nathan's jaw worked unhappily, but he stayed quiet. She knew he would rather be with her, but squad composition trumped his – and her – preference. "Third tank, Garrus, Jarvis, Kasumi and Zaeed. Remember, our job is to escort the volus pilots to their fighters. First group will clear the way, second makes sure it stays clear and the volus stay safe, third watches our rear." Shepard paced in front of her team. "Don't get bogged down. Let the mercs take care of any major threats or any elite units that might be out there. We need to get in quickly and get those fighters in the air. Once that's done, we can focus on clearing the base. Questions?" Shepard studied each of her squad one by one, but no one spoke up. She nodded. "Good. Get ready to move."

* * *

Nathan grasped the overhead strap, shifting his balance with the movement of the tank as it rumbled across the uneven jungle floor. He was surrounded by volus, both pilots and civilians, all safely ensconced in pressure suits and securely strapped into jumpseats. He, James, Miranda and Dangerfield were awkwardly standing in their midst, unable to fit into any of the jumpseats. The volus clearly hadn't designed their vehicles with the intention of selling them to any other species – surprising for the very economically focussed society but he supposed they had to keep some trump cards available to their own military.

He eyed the volus civilians with trepidation. Some were clearly only barely able to walk. He hoped the other volus had arranged for them to be assisted. Did they have some plan for when they got to the base? Were there shuttles waiting as well as bombers?

"Crawler One is approaching the base now," their driver called back into the main passenger area.

Nathan moved forward, trying to get a good look out through the forward viewscreen, but he couldn't see the first tank from here. He couldn't see much beyond the tank ahead of them, really, and the jungle they were slowly and carefully – _quietly_ – manoeuvring through. Their tank was third in line, Shepard's first and Garrus' brought up the rear. They had maintained tight formation for the entire journey, mere tens of metres separating them. In such large vehicles there was no point trying to split up and hide; the Reapers would be able to track one just as easily as many. Shepard had decided to forgo any attempt at stealth for the safety of numbers.

Her voice crackled over the comm, cool and focussed. "_We're at the west entrance. Disembarking now. Tighten it up."_

"Hostiles?" Miranda asked her tensely as their tank sped up in response.

"_Marauders, husks, cannibals. Nothing unexpected, but they know we're here. Tali, drone, two o'clock." _Shepard's assault rifle began to stutter in the background as she spoke, her rate of fire controlled and economical. There was something oddly reassuring about the sound._ "Joker, report."_

Nathan braced against another jolt as Joker replied. "_Destroyer is inbound, Commander. It's on to us."_

"_All right, we planned for this. Signal the mercenary fleet. Keep it away from the planet, Joker," _Shepard ordered over the sound of increasing gunfire.

Ahead of them, the second tank pulled in beside Shepard's, clearing Nathan's field of view. He spotted Shepard and Tali crouching near the nose of their tank, using it for cover while firing at a group of cannibals that were blocking their way into the base proper. There was no cover near the entrance besides the tank itself – the volus had designed it that way as a security measure – which left Shepard's team sitting mostly out in the open. As Nathan watched from his higher vantage point inside the tank, a group of marauders appeared on the building's roof overhead, running toward the edge. When they were in position, from that angle they would have a clear line of fire over Shepard's tank to her team below.

_Dammit. _"Stop!" he barked.

The volus driver twisted to glare back at him. "But—"

"Stop now," Nathan demanded, ignoring Miranda's annoyed frown for the moment. She was in command here, but he didn't have time to run it by her. "Drop us off then keep going." He keyed his comm as the tank jerked to a halt, almost throwing him off his feet. He regained his balance and headed for the hatch, pulling his Mantis off his back. "Shepard, you've got marauders at your eleven, on the roof. We've got them." Miranda's expression changed to one of understanding. She drew her SMG and nodded at the others to draw their own weapons too.

"_Acknowledged," _came the cool response.

Nathan shoved the hatch open, allowing the sound of husk moans and gunfire to waft in. He could pick out the steady sound of Shepard's Mattock over the constant sharp patter of the marauders' assault rifles. They were already beginning to come under fire, but Shepard's team was still a good distance away and the marauders on the roof of the base were further. Only sniper rifles had the range to take them from here. "Dange, you ready?"

"Aye, LT," she responded, hefting her Widow.

"We've got your back, _hombres,"_ James added, assault rifle drawn and ready. Miranda matched his stance, SMG at her thigh.

Nodding tersely, Nathan clambered out, using the hatch as cover as he darted back around to the rear of the tank. He felt exposed out here, but the tank would give them a decent amount of cover if they followed it toward the building.

As soon as he had it between him and those marauders, he sighted in, looking for their telltale fringes peeking out above the lip of the low wall surrounding the roof. Peripherally he was aware of the others moving around behind him, staying low of his line of sight. One of the marauders sat up on its haunches just a little, and he fired, smiling grimly as its head exploded in a shower of black blood.

"_In position," _Dangerfield reported via the comm, her voice an eerie approximation of Shepard's in its sudden calm. Marauders began dying, far more quickly than Nathan could have reloaded, sighted and fired. Even as the tank began moving slowly forward, allowing them to keep pace with it, Dangerfield managed to keep up her rate of accurate fire by crouching, firing once or twice, then running forward and reloading at the same time. For every one Nathan took out, the sniper specialist managed to hit three.

As they moved they added their fire to that of Shepard's group, and the biotic attacks of the few volus commandos who had been with them. Their guide, Kovus, was among them, tossing cannibals and husks into the air for his squadmates to take out at their leisure. None of them were affected by Irune's gravity, of course. His biotic prowess didn't quite match, say, that of a thousand-year-old asari Justicar like Samara, but it was all the more impressive for being so unexpected.

They soon drew level with Shepard's team and finished off the last remaining Reaper troops, allowing the tanks containing pilots and support crew to pull up and disgorge their passengers. Shepard nodded at him quickly before ordering her team ahead, into the base.

Meanwhile Nathan, James and Miranda tried to marshal the crowd into some sort of order. Dangerfield swapped her Widow out for a wicked-looking heavy pistol and covered them until Garrus' team finally arrived in the rear-most tank. Then they got moving, herding the volus forward into the base they had fled from only days before.

* * *

"This way," Lan Kovus directed them, gesturing at Shepard to follow. They were slowly making their way through low-ceilinged hallways that, while they were uncomfortable for Shepard and her team, had the advantage of making it impossible for marauders to come after them due to the simple fact that they couldn't fit their tall frames into the cramped space and remain capable of fighting. So far they had run into only husks and cannibals and had been able to take them out relatively easily despite having to adopt awkwardly hunched postures. The Reapers clearly hadn't expected that any aid for the volus would be forthcoming. In what seemed to be a rare instance of lack of foresight, they hadn't planned for it.

She didn't expect that to last. She had assigned Legion to guarding their rear and was expecting to be swarmed any minute now. "How's it look back there, Legion?" she asked via her in-ear comm.

"_No contacts, Shepard-Commander,"_ he responded.

"That won't last," Tali muttered, putting a voice to Shepard's thoughts.

"_My head-plate will require re-painting at the conclusion of this mission."_

Shepard blinked, glancing at Tali. "Does he mean… because he's so tall his head is scraping on the roof? Did he just…"

"… Make a joke?" Tali finished. "I think he, uh, tried."

"Uh… sure, Legion, I'll be happy to assist with that," Shepard replied, shaking her head. Legion had obviously been speaking with EDI far too much for her liking.

"We're almost there," Kovus reassured them, nasally voice rasping through his rebreather.

Shepard continued forward behind him, keeping a steady but cautious pace, Mattock at low ready. Tali was at her right shoulder, Sporritt at her left. The new marine was proving to be surprisingly competent, more so than Nathan had been to start with, which was a pleasant surprise. He was quick on the ball with incinerates and overloads and complemented Tali's energy drains nicely.

"There's a group of cannibals ahead," Kovus warned, dropping back and to the side to allow the more heavily armoured marines to take point. There was no cover in the corridors of the fighter base, so Shepard had used Nathan's shielding programme to overlap her shields with Sporritt's. Sporritt had been a little taken aback to learn that she had been using the technology he had developed with Nathan, and that it had been working so well… aside from a few small hiccups.

The cannibals were looking for them, and opened fire as soon as they rounded a corner and came within sight. "Sporritt, incinerate," she ordered. His particular version of the tech ability spread it to surrounding targets as well, which was a very handy little trick. The cannibals were close together out of necessity, in order to fit into the corridor. It worked perfectly; the cannibal nearest the centre exploded into flames, which then began licking at the creatures surrounding it.

As they began woodenly trying to slap the flames out, a bright flash of blue lit up Shepard's peripheral vision. Lan Kovus biotically charged into their midst, streaking across the empty space between the two groups. When he arrived at his destination he flung himself high into the air then leaped down, slamming a closed fist into the floor below, sending the cannibals flying. The biotic energy wreathing his rotund little form reacted violently to the fire of Sporritt's incinerate and the group of cannibals exploded into huge, wet gobs of dead flesh.

Shepard shook her head in amazement as she held an armoured hand up to protect her faceplate from the flying gore. When Lan Kovus, diminutive volus commando, had first pulled that trick off she hadn't quite believed it. Repetition had not lessened that feeling.

As they set off again, following Kovus as he gingerly stepped over the still-smouldering chunks of dead flesh, Tali spoke up. "You know what I just realised, Shepard?"

"What's that, Tali?"

"I think we're going to win today."

"No, don't jinx it!" Sporritt blurted out. Shepard and Tali both looked at him in surprise. "Something we used to say when we were under Briggs, uh, _Lieutenant_ Briggs, ma'am," he explained sheepishly. "As soon as you draw attention to the fact that we're winning, something will go wrong."

"That doesn't sound very likely," Tali protested in confusion.

"I understand, Corporal." Shepard grinned. "It's bullshit, but I understand."

"Bullshit—uh, ma'am? It's a proven fact—"

"_Shepard?"_

Shepard paused as her comm flared to life, glancing suspiciously at Sporritt, who had snapped his mouth shut. Joker sounded worried. Almost like something had gone wrong. "I'm here, Joker."

"_We have a problem, Commander. Another destroyer just exited the relay."_

Sporritt's eyes widened guiltily. Shepard's heart sank. _No no no no no… _"How far out are they?" she asked quickly, thinking frantically. If the destroyer had only just exited the relay they had maybe…

"_Ten minutes or so, ma'am."_

Ten minutes. Maybe if they could get the volus pilots to their ships the extra firepower could stop it in its tracks. But was ten minutes enough? She grimaced. It had to be. She keyed her comm for squad-wide broadcast. "All teams, this is Commander Shepard. We're moving up the timetable. Escort team, push forward to join us, rear guard close it in and look after the volus. Move it, all of you, we're on a time limit now. That includes you, merc ground teams. Step it up, now!"

She put actions to words, breaking into a jog as Garrus, Miranda and the merc ground team leaders gave her brief acknowledgements. Kovus nimbly kept pace with them as they ran. "Eclipse fleet, focus on the new destroyer. Slow it down but don't risk yourselves," she called over comm to the fleet above. This battle was important, but not important enough to throw away valuable ships and lives.

Miranda's team soon caught up, breathing hard as they skidded into formation behind them. Shepard quickly locked eyes with Nathan, reassuring herself that he was all right, before they all hurried down the halls of the fighter base. Shepard didn't hold back, throwing grenades and rotating tech abilities as well as making good use of Kovus' biotic abilities to decimate the weak troops the Reapers sent against them. It was overkill, but they mowed down all opposition in a fraction of the time it would have taken if she had felt the need to hold some of their arsenal in reserve.

Kovus had been right, they were close to the hangar bays. One moment they were fighting their way through a swarm of husks, the next they were following him through a blast door into a wide open hangar bay full of bombers. There was a token resistance, but it appeared the merc ground teams had been able to draw most of the Reaper troops away. _Good. _"Escort team, it's clear, get moving," she ordered as the last marauder dropped.

Kovus was already moving out into the hangar bay to a console. In a few seconds he had a holo-display flickering into life above the panel. "All fighters are fuelled and ready," he reported, satisfied. With a metallic grating sound, the huge blast doors overhead began to retract, revealing the simmering purple sky.

She nodded, glancing back over her shoulder to look for the pilots and making a face when she didn't see them. "Miranda, your team covers the south entrance. Garrus, yours to the west. We've got this one," she barked out, jogging into the cover of a nearby mechanical lifter. "Joker, report."

"_They're not slowing down, Shepard. We've got the first one pinned down but the second just blew past the Eclipse fleet. It'll be on you in a few minutes."_

_Damn, damn, damn! _The volus pilots had appeared now, running as fast as their short legs would carry them, sprinting into the hangar toward their fighters. Blinking, she noticed each pilot had a civilian with them. Were they going to pack a civilian into each fighter?

They were. She shook her head. They were desperate. They knew just as well as she did that no matter how fast they ran, the base probably wouldn't last much longer with that destroyer on the way. There weren't anywhere near enough shuttles; the only way off was in those fighters.

The mercs would be slaughtered if they stayed, and so would her team. "Mercenary ground teams, fall back. Get as far away from the base as you can," she ordered into her comm. "Kovus, we need shuttles, now!"

The commando pointed unerringly at a nest of three small shuttles sitting a short distance away from the fighters. "No weaponry, though, Commander," he warned her.

"We just need to run, Kovus," she replied, then switched back to her comm. "As soon as the pilots are aboard their ships, everyone into the shuttles. Get the hell out before that destroyer gets here!"


	41. Chapter 41

_A/N: Bit of a long one this time, enjoy! We're creeping closer and closer toward the end…_

**Chapter Forty-One**

Nathan swung into a shuttle behind Legion and a pair of volus. The hatch was already sliding shut even as Shepard shouted at the volus commando who had thrown himself into the pilot's seat to get them the hell out of there. Before he could grab a handhold the shuttle jolted as it lifted off, sending him slamming into Legion's back. The geth's legs were bent, absorbing the motion, and he didn't move as Nathan careened into him. A metal hand came out and wrapped around his bicep, keeping him from falling.

Nathan nodded in thanks and finally managed to grab an overhead strap, bracing with his feet wide apart against the rolling deck. Shepard was standing just outside the cockpit, helmet clamped to her thigh, sweaty tendrils of hair framing her face. She was frowning stonily at the ponderously descending Reaper destroyer seemingly tens of metres away outside the viewport.

He swore fervently under his breath as he stepped up next to her. It was so close, he almost felt as though he could jump across the space between it and their shuttle. Its black hull… carapace?... seemed to glisten in the dull violet light of Irune's atmosphere as it slid past. Up close it almost looked like a living being. He shuddered.

As he watched, the tiny and deceptively innocuous shapes of volus bombers began to rise in a cloud below the Reaper, each carrying a pilot and a civilian and deftly avoiding the slowly uncurling arms of the Reaper. He had no idea what had happened to the mercs, but he found himself hoping they had made it out as well. They had fought well and followed orders, after all, which was more than he had expected them to do.

"Looks like we made it," he murmured. The shuttle tilted as their pilot manoeuvred them around the Reaper destroyer's flank.

"Hmm," Shepard grunted in reply, staring intently at the body of the Reaper as they passed. The volus bombers were beginning to circle up and around, gaining the height and angle required for their bombing run. He hoped they could take it out, but he wasn't counting on it.

The two Reapers surviving meant their win wouldn't be as convincing as it would have been otherwise, but it was still a win in his book. They had saved dozens of volus pilots and at least the same number of civilians. But he knew Shepard wouldn't like it, and there was something unsettling about her expression…

"Wait!" she suddenly snapped. "Hold here."

The bombers were gliding slowly into position, but their shuttle slowly came to a halt, hovering still in the vacuum of space above Irune. Beside them, the Reaper descended inexorably toward the planet. Nathan stared at her intently. "Shepard?" he asked in a low voice.

She didn't reply, instead lifting a finger to her ear. "EDI, do you still have the data on that derelict Reaper we boarded over Mnemosyne?"

"_Yes, Commander."_

"Can you use the schematics of the derelict and the one we downed on Menae to project the probable location of an entrance to this destroyer?"

An _entrance? _Nathan felt his eyes widen of their own accord as EDI replied. "_Yes, Commander."_

"Do it," Shepard ordered. "We're going to cruise by and take a look."

"We're going to _what?" _Nathan heard James exclaim from the back of the shuttle.

"We're just going to take a look?" Tali repeated dubiously.

"No." Shepard decided, peering out at the destroyer. "If we can get in, we're going to land and destroy it from within."

Dangerfield and Sporritt were silent, still a little too intimidated by their new commander to speak up, but their eyes were wide. Miranda spoke up for them all, sounding both worried and annoyed. "Commander, I'm not sure that's a good idea. We don't know _how _to destroy it from within. And this destroyer isn't a derelict. There'll be _swarms_ of Reaper troops in there!"

Shepard swung around to face the team. "This is the best chance we're going to get to find out more about that mysterious armour Javik told us about. A living Reaper won't engage any failsafes like the one on Menae did. Legion and Tali will be able to get into its systems and get us the data we need, and between my missile launcher and Dangerfield, Briggs' and James' sniper rifles we have the firepower to take out its central core. We can bring it down as well."

"Onto – _pssht – _Irune?" Kovus spoke up worriedly, sounding breathless. Nathan guessed that was due to more than just the rebreather.

Shepard cast him a sharp glance. "Better you lose a building or two to a dead Reaper than the rest of the planet to a live one."

Kovus subsided reluctantly, but Miranda wasn't done. "What about indoctrination?" she persisted. "Even the derelict still managed to twist the minds of Doctor Chandana's scientists."

"The turian scientists on Menae have yet to become indoctrinated, and they've been working aboard the downed Reaper there for weeks now. It's a destroyer, too, but the one over Mnemosyne was _Sovereign-_class. It _may _be possible the destroyers don't have that capability." Shepard's expression left no doubt as to how little she felt _that _was the case, but it seemed she was willing to take the risk. "We won't be in there long," she told Miranda firmly. "We need to do this."

Slowly, Miranda nodded in reluctant agreement. She was right, and Nathan knew it too. The data on the Reaper armour was too valuable to not attempt to retrieve it. He slipped his helmet off and used his glove to wipe some of the sweat off the internal padding before replacing it and locking it securely in place. He began a quick check of his weapons, admittedly trying to keep his hands busy and his brain distracted from what they were about to do more than actually accomplishing anything much.

"I am – _pshh – _receiving the data from the Normandy now, Commander -_ pssht - _Shepard," the volus pilot spoke up, voice shaky but determined. "Taking us – _pssh – _in."

Shepard turned to Kovus, who drew himself up to his full height and spoke before she could. "You don't need to – _pssh_ – ask, Commander. I will go with you."

She nodded gravely in thanks. "Thank you. Contact your pilots and ask them to leave this Reaper alone for now. I'd like them to help Joker and the mercs with the other one instead."

"A sound – _psshh – _strategy,Commander," Kovus agreed before raising a hand to his helmet and turning away.

"All right," Shepard began, turning her full attention back to her team. There were eight of them on board the shuttle – Garrus' team had caught the second shuttle and were now hopefully on their way to a quiet spot out of the way where they could hide until it was possible to rendezvous with the _Normandy_. "We'll stick together in the one team for this one. I don't want anyone going off by themselves for any reason. If any one of us starts to show signs of indoctrination they are to be disarmed immediately. That includes me. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am," Nathan murmured, feeling a sense of unease creep over him. How exactly would they tell if someone had been indoctrinated? Kasumi and Miranda had filled him in on the basic idea of indoctrination but he didn't really know much about it beyond that. The entire concept sent uncomfortable shivers crawling up his spine.

The shuttle sailed down toward the Reaper, which was still slowly sinking toward the planet below them. Their volus pilot deftly swung around its hull, swooping between two of its outstretched, grasping appendages with bare metres to spare. He lowered them carefully toward a tiny platform that appeared to have been gouged into the Reaper's hull by an errant missile.

Shepard pulled her helmet on, pulling it into place with a quiet snick. Her voice came through his in-ear comm. "Briggs, up front with me. Keep your eyes and ears open, everyone. Let's go."

Nathan followed her out of the shuttle, boots making a sharp crack as he landed on the surface of the Reaper beside her. The ground was hard and brittle, coloured a dark obsidian, as were the walls of the narrow entrance leading into the dark belly of the Reaper. As he squeezed through, he couldn't help seeing an eerie vision of sharp teeth closing down on him. He shuddered.

There was barely enough room to walk straight on, let alone hold a rifle, so he pulled his heavy pistol out instead. He peered over the top of Shepard's helmet as they advanced, the way lit by their combined helmet lamps. It was deathly quiet, the only sounds some sort of whispering or clicking in the far distance.

"It's creepy in here," Dangerfield murmured apprehensively.

"Very creepy. I am glad Jack isn't here," Tali commented quietly from behind Nathan. "She would be having far too much fun." Nathan grinned fleetingly to himself, remembering his and Jack's banter on the recruitment station.

The narrow corridor opened out onto a larger one that seemed to run diagonally away from the first, leading further into the Reaper. They all fanned out behind Shepard, who led them forward, consulting her omnitool for directions as she went. The map EDI had uploaded seemed mostly accurate, but Nathan noticed Shepard rechecking and correcting their position more than once. He hoped they didn't get lost in here.

"It's too quiet," Nathan heard Sporritt mutter after a few minutes, and he had to agree. They had been completely unopposed from the moment they stepped onto the ship. His mind flitted back to the ominous idea of indoctrination again. Perhaps there was a reason the Reaper wasn't bothering with sending any ground forces against them.

"The core should be through… here…" Shepard trailed off as she rounded a corner.

Nathan followed close behind, but he too had to stop in his tracks.

They had stepped onto a narrow walkway leading across the upper edge of a huge, cavernous sunken arena. There was very little noise, despite the sheer number of people – _humans _– filling the space below. They were packed in tight, men, women and children pressing close together, but no one was complaining. Even the young children were still.

"They're so quiet," Dangerfield murmured quietly over the comm, voice filled with confusion. "Why?"

Peering closer, Nathan found himself chilled to the bone. Their eyes were all completely blank. They appeared to be staring at the walls without really comprehending what they were looking at. Nathan swallowed. Did they know where they were?

"What the hell is this…?" Miranda whispered as she came up beside Nathan. He shook his head wordlessly.

As he watched, a group of people he had originally assumed to be hunching together for mutual support were suddenly thrust high up into the air, impaled on long, gleaming spikes. He jerked back reflexively. The steady _pssht _sounds coming from Lan Kovus' rebreather suddenly increased in volume and tempo. James swore quietly, but none of the humans standing in the arena below reacted. They stared blankly at the twitching bodies, seemingly beyond caring.

Those on the spikes, however, suddenly began thrashing, faces contorting in excruciating pain. Nathan winced as their skin seemed to crawl, rippling as electrical wires were fed through nerve and muscle into their bodies. Their flesh blackened, burning in places, as diodes forced their way through with tiny bursts of red blood. None of them screamed, although their mouths were stretched wide open in wordless cries of terror or pain, Nathan couldn't make up his mind which.

Slowly, gradually, _painfully_, they were being turned into husks.

"Oh, _keelah,_" Tali murmured sorrowfully.

James had continued to swear softly to himself; now he raised his rifle and aimed at the twitching people, clearly intending to put them out of their misery. Before he could fire, however, Shepard's gloved hand came down on top of the rifle, shoving it back down. Her voice was stone cold when she spoke. "We can't save them, and we can't stay here. Move on."

Her tone of voice chilled him to the bone, but Nathan understood where it came from. She knew that if she allowed one iota of what was happening below to really get to her she would lose control. And there was no way, _no way, _Shepard would allow herself to lose control on a mission.

Nathan took a quick, careful breath, forcing the images of children impaled on spikes from his mind. He swapped his heavy pistol for his Mattock, clutching it to his chest like a lifeline, and followed Shepard.

They crept along the walkway, being careful to move smoothly but quickly so as to minimize the chances of someone spotting them. The humans below seemed far beyond caring, but who knew what defences the Reaper could have that they weren't aware of? Nathan wondered what had happened to the unfortunate captives to make them so docile. Drugs could certainly have done it… could indoctrination? Could the Reapers' ability to influence minds be that strong?

Shepard appeared to think so. "You saw those people down there," she said quietly via the comm. "That's what indoctrination can do. I guarantee those people down there thought they were safe, and that what was happening was right. Watch each other carefully, and step up the pace. We need to get out of here fast."

"Those… _psshshhht… _people… _psshhht,_" Kovus gasped.

"_Madre di dios, _if so many people can be indoctrinated so thoroughly and so quickly, what chance do we have?" James murmured despondently.

"That's enough," Shepard said firmly, glancing back at Vega as they moved. "We'll be fine if we're quick." He subsided reluctantly, readjusting his heavy assault rifle across his chest.

They moved quickly but carefully past another wide, obsidian-lined cross-corridor, the entrance to which yawned open like a hungry mouth, the way forward lit only a few metres in. As they ran, Nathan could have sworn he heard something. He faltered in his run, peering into the darkness, but saw nothing.

"We don't know it was this destroyer that indoctrinated them," Miranda added. "There are a _lot_ of people down there, and their minds have clearly been overwhelmed. It seems unlikely a comparatively minor Reaper vessel like this would have the power to accomplish that."

"Why not?" Sporritt asked, voice rough after what they had just witnessed. "It's minor compared to other Reaper ships, sure, but not compared to us. Why _wouldn't_ they make it so all their ships can do this? It's… efficient."

Nathan glanced back behind them, sure he had heard something again. But no, nothing moved. It had to have been an echo. "Why don't they just fly their ships down to the surfaces of all the populated worlds and indoctrinate everyone straight away? It'd make it a lot easier for them," he countered, sudden understanding dawning. "Indoctrination has to be limited in some way. I bet it requires some sort of finite power source."

"Hmm," Tali mused. "I hadn't thought of that. You could be right. But what sort of power source could it be? It would have to be _very_ powerful, more powerful than anything I've ever seen. Mass effect technology couldn't accomplish that…" She trailed off, thinking, clearly grasping onto the distraction with both hands.

The squad was quiet as they jogged along, boots thudding noisily against the ground. Nathan felt the back of his neck prickling, although he saw nothing to justify his uneasiness. The hall they were in was straight and empty, with nowhere for anything to hide. It would be impossible for the Reaper to send troops to set up an ambush, they would see them from a mile away.

And yet…

He switched over to a private comm channel he had set up with Shepard. Originally he had intended it for other, more entertaining purposes, but right now he wanted to speak with her directly without unnecessarily setting the whole team on edge. He could be completely wrong, but his instincts had occasionally panned out in the past. If he was right this time… "Shepard."

She cast him a quick questioning look as they jogged along at opposite sides of the corridor. "Nathan?"

"I feel like we're about to get swarmed," he admitted, almost reluctantly.

Instead of immediately trying to reassure him, she was quiet for a moment. "Why?" she asked, and all of a sudden he realised she was testing him, teaching him again. "We're in a straight, empty corridor with no visible ambush points."

"We don't know the lay of the land well enough to say with certainty there are no ambush points," he replied. "And… I've been hearing things." He shook his head, agitated. "I don't know, Shepard, my instincts tell me to be really fucking careful right about now."

She cast him another brief look, and beneath her visor he could tell she was pleased with his response, though grim. "Good. Mine are telling me the same thing. Trust your instincts, they'll keep you alive." She flicked back over to the squad channel. "Tighten it up. Heavy armour on the outer edges. Expect trouble," she ordered. The group moved in response, heavy armour-wearers shifting to the outside of the formation while lightly-armoured tech specialists kept to the middle. Each of them suddenly became more alert, guns up, visors tracking across the hall as they searched for targets.

Nothing moved. Clenching his teeth, Nathan kept pace with the squad.

After a short while Legion spoke up. "Shepard-Commander, I detect a source of considerable energy nearby."

Shepard frowned. "We're still a ways off the core. What is it?"

"Could it be the power source Tali'Zorah was talking about?" Sporritt asked. He seemed to be getting more confident about speaking up now.

"Inconclusive," Legion replied after a brief pause, with characteristic bluntness.

"What he means," Tali clarified, reading over the display on her omnitool, "is that he doesn't know what it is. The energy source he is picking up is far too small in physical size to generate the _huge_ amounts of energy he detects. And I'm talking _huge, _enough to power a whole fleet of quarian liveships. It couldn't possibly…" She trailed off, suddenly stopping short in the middle of the corridor. The rest of the group came to a stumbling halt around her, much to Nathan's – and clearly Shepard's – annoyance. "Wait a second."

She frowned at her omnitool and began typing on the holographic keypad, moving data around faster than Nathan could keep up with. He glanced at Shepard. His feet were itching to keep moving. "Tali…" Shepard prompted warningly, pacing back toward her. Nathan kept his own eyes warily focussed on the corridor ahead, rifle raised and ready. It remained empty.

The quarian engineer closed her omnitool interface with a snap and stared intently at Legion, ignoring Shepard for the moment. "Legion, can you bring up all the data I shared with you from my trip to Haestrom last year?"

"Of course, Creator-Zorah."

"Confirm my calculations. Would a contained quantity of dark matter be able to provide the energy output we're detecting while matching the physical size of the source?"

"Dark matter cannot be contained in such a fashion, Creator-Zorah."

Tali made a frustrated noise, glancing at Shepard. She knew full well that if Shepard was telling them to keep moving, they needed to _keep moving_. "I know, Legion, but just humour me. Could it _theoretically _do so?"

"Tali…" Shepard warned. The quarian shifted nervously, glancing from the Commander to Legion.

The geth cocked his head to one side in a surprisingly eloquent gesture. "Very well, Creator-Zorah." He paused, calculating. Shepard was clearly growing more impatient by the second. "Yes."

"Yes! Ha! I knew it!" Tali exclaimed.

"Get moving, then explain," Shepard snapped, taking her arm and gently but firmly pushing her forward. "We're still a long way from the core."

"We need to get to that energy source, not the core," Tali told her quickly, hefting her shotgun and falling into a jog beside Shepard as the squad moved out again. "We need to get as much data as possible from it, then destroy it."

"Why?" Shepard demanded impatiently. "We need to take this Reaper down, not just its ability to indoctrinate."

"We will! What you are thinking of as the core may only be used to control the Reaper's mass effect field generators," Tali explained. "Remember Mnemosyne – we took out the core but that didn't accomplish anything beyond shutting down the mass effect fields keeping the Reaper in orbit. Turning them off would be helpful here, yes, but it won't take the ship out completely. Destroying a source of dark matter this size will, no matter _what _it's powering… but I suspect it's powering the Reaper itself."

Shepard's eyes widened slightly and she nodded, frowning to herself as she thought. She wasn't happy about changing their target mid-mission, Nathan could tell. But Tali's reasoning was sound. "All right. All right, we'll do it," she finally agreed.

If something needed to be blown up, that was Nathan's forte. He was already running through his and the team's inventory in his head, trying to piece together solutions. "How big will the bomb need to be?" he asked.

"I will forward the specifications to your omnitool," Legion said. Sure enough, Nathan's omnitool beeped a moment later. He slung his rifle over onto his back and moved to the middle of the squad to bring it up, Vega taking up his previous position on point with Shepard.

He was still studying it when they turned a corner and came up on a seamlessly closed heavy blast door. His instincts suddenly flared, screaming _ambush. _"Shepard—" he began, reaching for his rifle, but was cut off by a loud chorus of undulating moans echoing down the corridor toward them.

There was zero cover, but Shepard didn't seem fazed. It was almost as though she had been expecting this. "Briggs, up front with me, get that shield mod programme up," Shepard ordered. "Extend it to Vega. Vega, get up here too. Tali, Legion, get that door open. Everyone else stay behind us."

The squad scrambled into position, Nathan typing madly on his omnitool interface as he moved. He couldn't get his fingers to type nearly as fast as he wanted them to, but after what seemed like long minutes he was finally done. He forwarded the programme to Shepard's and Vega's omnitools and remotely launched it, watching his shield indicator shoot up in response.

Shepard didn't waste any time. "On me, quickly," she prompted.

She moved forward at a slow jog, Nathan and James sticking close on her six. Crouching, she ducked a head around the corner they had just passed. "Husks," she reported. "Sporritt, Dangerfield, Kovus, get up here. Miranda, keep an eye on Legion and Tali. Briggs, Vega, we set up a shield barrier here in case we get any cannibals or marauders."

The three of them moved out into the corridor, standing close enough for the shield modulation to work but not bothering with any other cover. As Nathan stepped out into the corridor, he swallowed. The hall was long, but he could see a dense, loping mass of husks approaching in the distance. They were almost in range and coming on fast, deep moans echoing off the dark obsidian walls surrounding them. Dangerfield skidded into a crouch beside him, sucking in a nervous breath and unfolding her rifle. She began firing incendiary rounds into the middle of the pack as soon as she had range. Sporritt, on the other side of the group, started tossing incinerates as quickly as he could queue them up. Lan Kovus inserted himself between Shepard and Nathan, and husks began floating into the air as he started placing singularities in their path.

It wasn't long before they were in range of Nathan's assault rifle. He fired quickly but carefully, sending each husk collapsing to the ground before moving on to the next. His aim seemed to have improved, he noticed absently. He tried to take out the ones caught in Kovus' singularity while Shepard and Vega focussed on those who had made it past.

Between the six of them they soon built up a rhythm, taking out husk after husk, but the waves didn't die down. As soon as one dropped, another climbed over its lifeless form and began stumbling toward them. It dropped too, but on came another, and another, and gradually the mass of husks began flowing toward them. He wondered how many of these husks had been people just minutes before. Swallowing a sudden hard lump in his throat, he pushed that thought to the back of his mind and shot the legs out from under another one.

"How's that door coming, Tali?" Shepard called over the loud staccato rain of assault rifle fire.

"It's a tough one, Shepard, but similar to heretic design. Legion is making progress," Tali reported, tension clear in her voice. "ETA—Miranda! Look out!"

"Shit!" Miranda swore over the comm. "They're climbing up from below, squeezing through somehow!"

The loud bang of Tali's shotgun startled him, but not Shepard. "Fall back," she ordered calmly. "Sporritt, back them up, now." The engineer got to his feet and sprinted back the way they had come.

Nathan slowly moved back in tandem with Shepard and Vega. As they reached the corner, he chanced a quick look behind.

Husks were somehow forcing their limbs up through the tiny gap between the floor of the corridor and its walls. They were coming through slowly, but he counted at least eight already partially through. Even as he watched, he spotted black and blue hands beginning to appear between the ceiling and walls as well, inching down like macabre spiders.

Shepard had seen it too. "Briggs, drop the shield programme, we don't need it." He hit the kill switch he had installed for just this purpose, and the shield modulation dropped off instantly. "Vega, help them. Briggs, Dangerfield, Kovus, stay on husks. Keep those singularities coming, Kovus."

"Twenty seconds, Shepard-Commander."

Nathan breathed a sigh of relief, but immediately had to turn his focus back to the oncoming husks as they began to round the corner. Kovus threw up a singularity immediately, and Nathan fired on the husks that were caught in it. Dangerfield had switched to her heavy pistol and was taking out any that missed the singularity, while Shepard cleaned up anything that got past the three of them. The choke-point was working. For now.

"Clear, Commander," Miranda reported, not a minute too soon.

"Shepard, we're in… dammit!" Tali swore. "There's no way through."

"Get to work in there, we'll hold the door," Shepard replied firmly. "Miranda, Sporritt, help them." A chorus of crisp acknowledgements followed the order, and Shepard directed her next order to the husk team. "Fall back. I don't want anything able to get around behind us."

They backed up until Kovus and Dangerfield had their backs to the doorway leading into the room containing the dark matter battery. Nathan kept his focus on the husks, taking out one after another until their grotesque blue and black bodies began to pile up in the hallway before them. Forcefully he ignored the fact that some were noticeably smaller than the others.

Peripherally he was aware of the conversation coming from the room behind him. He tried to let it distract him from the hall ahead, which was rapidly becoming slick with black blood and gore.

He heard Tali gasp in awe. "I was right!" she muttered to herself. "Dark matter. And it's contained! Keelah, look at this!"

"Amazing," Sporritt murmured, sounding just as awed as Tali.

"Data first," Miranda said crisply. "Gawking later."

"I don't know why Shepard put _her _in charge," Tali muttered, but it sounded more like banter than genuine anger. "She's always—damn, Legion, look at these firewalls!"

"I am making progress, Creator-Zorah."

"There's another port over here." That sounded like Sporritt. A burst from Nathan's mattock sent a crawling husk tumbling to the ground below, an arm semi-detached from its body.

"See if you can get in," Miranda prompted.

"Ha! Got it!" Tali exclaimed. "Downloading now."

A singularity curved into place directly between Nathan and a group of three husks pulling themselves up from the gap between the floor and the wall. He took two out in quick succession, Shepard scoring the third. "Briggs, go set up that bomb," she ordered. "We've got this covered."

"Aye aye," he responded, snapping his rifle back onto his back and pulling his gear out of his pack as he turned.

He stepped into a small but obviously very heavily shielded room. The walls were lined with what appeared to be a much thicker and stronger type of alien stone than what he had grown accustomed to, and they glowed with an eerie wash of blue light. In the centre of the room stood a complex pedestal made up of coiling black cables and flashing blue indicator lights. On the pedestal, contained within what looked like glass but was probably something far more complicated, sat a slowly undulating ball of black viscous liquid. "Hot damn," he whispered, stopping for a moment to stare. He had never seen anything like it before.

"Briggs, move it," Miranda snapped from behind what he thought must be a terminal.

Shaking himself, he ignored the dark matter battery with some effort and got to work on the bomb.

He was almost finished when Shepard's voice came over the comm again. "All right, looks like they've stopped coming for now. Dangerfield, on point at the corner, you're our lookout. Vega, back her up at this doorway. Kovus, with me. Rest your biotics, we'll need them later."

Nathan saw the exact moment when she spotted the dark matter battery. She stepped in through the door and stopped, as he had, but instead of naked awe her expression just became stonier.

She scanned the room, assessing what her team was doing, and when she was satisfied took up a position near the door. "Kovus, we'll need pickup from the same place we came in," she told the volus commando.

"We're going – _pshht – _to fight through all that again?"

"Yes, we are," she replied firmly. Nathan believed it. He returned his attention to his bomb.

"I'll get – _pssht – _our pilot onto it, Commander." He took a deep, rasping breath. "Shepard… what will happen to those people? The – _pssht – _indoctrinated ones?"

Shepard sighed. Out of the corner of his eye Nathan saw her head was down, hands on hips, shoulders just a little slumped. She didn't want the team to see how much the sight of all those helpless captives being converted one by one into husks had affected her, but he could tell. She was hurting. "They'll be killed," she replied in a low voice. "When we blow the dark matter. There's nothing we can do about that."

Kovus nodded sadly and wandered off, no doubt trying to come to terms with the situation. Shepard stayed where she was for another brief second, then suddenly looked up to see him watching. It was difficult to make out her expression through the faceplate of her helmet, but he could see the pain in her eyes. He did his best to transmit reassurance, solidarity, in his own gaze. _We're almost done. We've found important information. This was worth it._

She nodded briefly, a tiny inclination of her head, then straightened and assumed the mask of Commander Shepard once more.


	42. Chapter 42

_A/N: This has to be the chapter I had the most fun writing out of everything I've written so far. Enjoy!_

**Chapter Forty-Two**

Shepard leaned her shoulder up against one side of the entrance to the small room containing the dark matter battery, arms folded over her chest as she watched her team work. She kept her face carefully blank, hiding the ugly mess of emotions broiling just beneath the surface.

There had been _hundreds _of people in that room. _Hundreds. _Innocent civilians, men, women and children, elderly people, weak, strong and everything in between. She had no idea how the Reapers thought _toddlers _could make functional soldiers. Even with all the wiring and diodes in the world they were still so _small_. Did they think they were just going to grab on to soldiers' legs…?

Her thoughts came grinding to a halt as realisation dawned. She closed her eyes. All they had to do was be there, visible, and human soldiers would crumble.

_Compartmentalise… _She shifted uneasily, forcing her eyes open and glancing back out at Vega and Dangerfield. Vega hadn't moved, but Dangerfield was staring at the dark matter battery, slack-jawed with awe. "Private," she snapped. The younger woman jumped, reflexively straightening almost to attention at her tone. "You have a job to do."

"Aye aye, ma'am," Dangerfield replied quickly, turning back to her post.

Shepard frowned in the general direction of her back. Dangerfield had seemed a little _too _in awe, and a little lacking in guilt when she was caught staring. Was it just because she had never seen anything like that before, or was it something else? The dark matter battery could theoretically be powering the Reaper's indoctrination ability; could proximity to it make indoctrination harder to resist? How did indoctrination work, anyway? Was it passed to people by objects, or by the Reaper itself, or using some other method entirely?

She pressed her lips together into a thin, frustrated line. How could she possibly hope to fight something she knew so little about?

With some effort she gave herself another mental shove. She had resisted indoctrination before, and she would do so again. And that meant that with any luck, she could pull the others out of here with the data they needed.

She knew _exactly_ how presumptuous and tenuous that idea was. But she had been in many close-up situations with Reapers before and still, somehow, had not been indoctrinated. Harbinger had almost certainly turned Object Rho's power on her directly at Aratoht, and still she had resisted. She _seemed _to have some sort of immunity to its effects. Perhaps her death had caused it? Perhaps it was the Prothean Cipher buried in her brain? She didn't know, but it gave them an advantage, and they needed that data.

She knew she was risking not just her crew's lives here, but their minds as well. But she also knew that data was more important than any one of their lives, or any individual's sanity. Her own included.

She shifted her gaze to Tali, who was drifting back toward the orb of dark matter. Sporritt was hovering nearby. The two engineers were very excited by the discovery. Were they _too _excited? She worried they might be. If they started talking about needing to save it…

Miranda and James seemed very much on edge, but otherwise fine… so far. James was fidgeting nervously at his post, but hadn't looked back to the orb of dark matter once. He seemed very keen to get out of here; probably just as much as Shepard herself was. Miranda had found some cover that would give her a clear line of sight through the door and was calmly studying something on her omnitool, only the tightness in the corners of her mouth giving away the fact that she was just as on-edge as the rest of them.

Legion was standing very still in a corner of the room, seeming to have sidelined some of the processes that made him appear more outwardly organic in order to prioritise those tasked with retrieving and sorting through data. Lan Kovus was handling this surprisingly well, as was Nathan. Kovus had contacted his pilot and arranged their pickup, and was now hovering near the door close to her, clearly intending to take advantage of her shields if they were attacked. Nathan had taken some gear from his pack and some of her missiles and had almost completed a sizeable explosive device. And, after her initial suspicions, Dangerfield hadn't done anything to prompt any further scrutiny.

So far they were okay. She could only hope they stayed that way.

The team was quiet as they worked for a while, until Kovus spoke up softly from beside her. "Commander Shepard. Are you – _pssht - _sure there's nothing we can do for those – _pshht - _captives?"

She shook her head sadly. "We have no way of getting them off the Reaper before we blow it, and they're too far gone to act themselves if we warn them."

"But they looked… drugged," Dangerfield added from her other side, startling her. Shepard hadn't realised she had moved. "We can't undo that somehow?"

"No," she replied, turning a suspicious gaze on Dangerfield once more. Something about her just seemed… off. "When they're that far gone, they'll fight for the Reapers before they'll even think of saving their own lives. There is no antidote."

Dangerfield persisted, which only added to that feeling that something was off about her. She hadn't spoken up much so far, at least not to Shepard, and now she felt brave enough to argue with one of her decisions? "But what if we delayed blowing the dark matter? Just for a little while? There are plenty of volus bombers out there, surely they can carry extra passengers..."

"No, Dangerfield," Shepard told her sharply. "We can't go back for them. Understood?"

The sniper wouldn't meet her eyes. "Yes, ma'am."

"Commander, the bomb is ready," Nathan called out.

Shepard moved over to take a look, keeping a cautious eye directed back toward Dangerfield. She was fidgeting again. Was she fidgeting too much…? "All right, set us a timer. I want to be sure this goes off even if our comms are jammed."

"Will do," Nathan replied, crouching behind the device he had attached to the side of the pedestal.

Dangerfield's hand was starting to stray a little too close to her weapon. _Shit._ Shepard made up her mind.

She reached out and in one quick move smoothly pulled the sniper rifle from the younger woman's back, and the pistol from her side. Dangerfield jumped, startled, but Tali caught on immediately and swiftly had her shotgun pointed straight at Nathan's old squadmate.

None of them saw the ripples of blue biotic energy crackling along Lan Kovus' pressure-suited arms until Nathan was flung headlong away from the pedestal and into the opposite wall. His limbs cartwheeled wildly before he hit with a crash, shoulder-first, and slid limply to the ground.

For a brief second Shepard stopped breathing. _Nathan!_

She tossed the extra guns to the ground by her feet and grabbed Dangerfield's arms, putting herself and her shields between the younger woman and the indoctrinated commando. "Immobilise, don't kill!" she snapped out, crouching and pulling Dangerfield down with her. She stole a quick glance at Nathan, but he hadn't moved. _Shit, no!_

Kovus darted forward, seeming to flicker then reappear with a biotically-charged crack-_boom_ right next to the pedestal and the bomb Nathan had prepared. Sporritt tossed a quick heavy overload at him, but it was aimed at where he had originally been standing, not where he ended up. The ball of crackling electricity fizzled out harmlessly on the wall behind.

Luckily the Reaper had not yet descended into Irune's atmosphere, meaning Miranda was still capable of using her biotics. She gestured, forming the mnemonic for a biotic slam. But before she could complete it, Kovus threw his rotund little body into the air, leaping up then straight down, and slamming his gloved fist into the ground. The nova was just as devastating to them as it had been to the cannibals back on Irune. A shockwave of biotic force rippled out around him, pushing Miranda over and sending Sporritt and Tali staggering back. Shepard had to grit her teeth and brace herself and Dangerfield in place to keep them from falling to the ground.

Legion was unaffected, and within a matter of milliseconds had summoned his combat drone. It crept up behind Kovus while he recovered from his nova and shocked him, sending him stumbling forward. Miranda saw her chance, scrambling to pull herself up on one elbow before trying her slam again. This time it worked, tossing him flying into the air before throwing him back down into the ground. She had pulled the force of the slam, Shepard could tell, but it still did the job. Kovus was out cold.

So was Nathan. _God, no, don't let him be..._ She swallowed her worry and got to her feet, pulling Dangerfield up with her. Her voice was steady when she spoke. "Looks like the Reaper got to Kovus and Dangerfield. Sporritt, take care of Kovus. Bring him with us. Miranda, take Dangerfield," she ordered. As soon as Miranda had taken hold of Dangerfield, she hurried over to where Nathan was lying motionless on the ground.

Quickly, efficiently, without letting herself think too hard about how badly he might have been hurt by that throw, she paired her omnitool with his suit diagnostics. As soon as she heard the regular beep coming from his heart-rate monitor she allowed herself to take a relieved breath. He was unconscious, but otherwise unhurt. She used his suit's onboard dispenser to deliver a manual dose of medigel.

He stirred, and she slipped an arm under his back to help him sit up. "Legion, are you capable of finishing the timer on that bomb?" she asked as she waited for him to come back to his senses.

"Yes, Shepard-Commander," Legion replied.

"Do it," she prompted. He moved over to the bomb and crouched down beside it.

"What the…" Nathan muttered thickly.

"You're fine," she replied, hand itching to stroke his hair, touch his face, something to reassure herself he was okay. "You were knocked out. How do you feel?"

He blinked, and she noticed he seemed to have little trouble focussing. That was a good thing. "Yeah… great."

She let a brief smile touch the corners of her mouth and got to her feet, offering a hand. "On your feet, then. Once that timer is set, we're leaving."

He grabbed her hand and she hauled him up. Legion was stepping away from the bomb. "Ready, Shepard-Commander. I have allowed fifteen minutes."

Not much time, but it would be enough. It would have to be enough. She nodded and clapped her gloved hands together, startling those of her squad who had been focussed on other things. "Form up! Back to the shuttle!"

As the squad formed up again and they headed out, Vega falling into position on the way, Legion spoke up. "Shepard-Commander, I have been successful in downloading a significant amount of useful data. I have uploaded a backup to EDI's databanks, but I recommend additional backups as soon as possible."

A tiny thrill of cautious success stirred in Shepard's chest as she ran, rifle up and ready. She didn't take her eyes off the way ahead as she replied. "You can't utilise the geth collective for this?"

Legion was similarly unaffected. His drone was floating along beside him, ready to deploy. "I am the only platform within communications range. I would require access to a comm buoy."

"I'll get it for you as soon as we get back to the _Normandy_," she promised. Getting Legion back to the _Normandy_ and getting them all out of here had just become even more important.

They managed to make some headway down the long, featureless corridor they had come in on, but Shepard had known they wouldn't get far. When the moaning started to waft down the hall towards them she was ready. "Here they come," she warned. "I want everyone but Vega and Briggs to focus on keeping them off our backs. Stop them from flanking us." She triggered her assault rifle's collapse and hauled her missile launcher off her back. "Vega, Briggs and I will keep the way ahead clear. Don't let them get within melee range, we can't stop to brawl."

A chorus of 'aye aye's' came from the soldiers in the group. It wasn't long before husks began to appear, sometimes seeming to melt through the very walls before dropping to the ground and loping toward the escaping group. All around her guns began to open up, and husks began to fall. Vega and Nathan cleaned up the area directly in front of them, but she refrained from firing herself until she spotted a clump of husks approaching from down the hall. Quickly she shouldered the missile launcher and fired.

Her missile flew down towards the group of husks and detonated on impact, sending black and blue chunks of flesh exploding outward and splattering into the walls. A moment later the squad ran through the blast zone, the external temperature needle spiking on Shepard's HUD. It didn't enter the red zone, however, meaning their suits were compensating easily. She nodded to herself, satisfied, but before she could take even a moment to relax another group of husks appeared ahead.

The Reaper was not going to let them go easily.

She fired again, and as soon as the impact zone cleared, she fired again. Quickly she risked a glance behind at her team, jaw tightening as she saw their formation beginning to decay as they fought to keep what had now become a seething mass of husks from overwhelming the group. Miranda wasn't quite as effective as usual, having to keep a hand and an eye on Dangerfield at all times, and Sporritt was all but useless, carrying the unconscious Lan Kovus. Tali and Legion's drones were compensating, however, harrying the husks and distracting them until one of the team could take them out. They were holding, but not quite as easily as Shepard would prefer. "Tighten it up," she said grimly.

Briefly she considered reassigning Vega to rear guard, but husks moved slowly enough that they should be able to out-run them if they kept moving, which meant it was imperative the way ahead was kept clear. Gritting her teeth she stepped up the pace, firing missiles one after the other. The confined space quickly began filling with dense grey smoke until it became difficult to see the path forward. She began to rely on the map on her HUD to ensure they were still heading in the right direction.

When they finally reached the narrow corridor leading back to the tiny platform they had originally landed on, Shepard could barely make out the entrance. "Vega, go!" she ordered, and the big man ducked through into the narrow space. The husks were swarming way too close for her to use her missile launcher, so she swapped it out for her Mattock and added her own fire to that of her team's. "Step it up!" she called.

"_Commander, this is Vega,"_ came the big marine's voice over the comm.

"Go ahead," she replied, firing a burst at a husk that had been loping up on Tali's left flank. It collapsed to the ground in a still heap.

"_The shuttle isn't back yet, ma'am," _he told her.

She swore to herself. "I'll take care of it," she replied tersely. She didn't have the frequency for the volus shuttle, but she did have the group-wide command channel. She quickly switched over to it. "All ships, this is Commander Shepard. We need immediate extraction at my coordinates. I repeat, we need immediate extraction at my coordinates," she called into the comm, taking a quick potshot as she did. A husk crumpled to the ground just as another one appeared from the smoke. "Tali, drone, two."

"_On my way now, Commander," _came the welcome sound of Steve Cortez's voice over the comm as Tali's drone sideslipped over to meet the oncoming husk, shocking it long enough for Tali to take it out with a brutal point-blank shotgun blast.

"ETA?" she snapped, firing a quick two-shot burst and taking out another husk.

"_Two… three minutes... Commander, am I seeing this right? Are you _onboard _the Reaper?"_

"Yes, we are, Cortez," she replied grimly. "We'll be on an external platform. You should be able to get in here."

There was only the briefest of pauses before he responded. "I'm on it, ma'am." The channel clicked shut.

No time to waste, and the narrow tunnel at their backs would be much easier to defend from the other side. "Tali, Legion, get through," she ordered, tossing an incendiary grenade out to cover their retreat. As soon as they had both disappeared into the narrow crevice she nodded at Nathan. "Your turn," she prompted, making sure her tone left no room for disagreement. She knew he hated it when she put his safety before her own, he had been obvious about that in the past. But it was her responsibility as squad leader to look after her team. She hoped he understood that.

Whether he understood or not, he was well aware that they had no time to argue about it. He moved quickly into the crevice. Shepard tossed out another grenade, sending husks flying into the smoky air, and ducked in behind him.

It was just as claustrophobic as it had been when they first boarded, but this time they were moving quickly enough that Shepard didn't really notice. She ran, feet crossing over sometimes as she spun and side-stepped past a narrowing of the corridor. The eerie moans of the husks were always just behind her, shuffling feet coming from mere metres away. When she stumbled out onto the tiny platform behind Nathan she allowed herself a quick steadying breath before spinning around and firing back into the tunnel.

"Six point three seven minutes until detonation, Shepard-Commander," Legion supplied, dispassionate voice incongruous with the heat of battle.

"Got it," she replied, throwing one of her few remaining incendiary grenades into the tunnel. It exploded with a muffled boom.

Almost before the words had left her mouth, movement from the direction of Kovus' unconscious form caught her eye. _Shit. _"Sporritt!" she snapped. "Kovus!"

Sporritt's omnitool was glowing red, indicating he was right in the middle of throwing an incinerate. His eyes darted quickly to the volus commando, who was stirring, pushing himself into a sitting position, but Shepard knew that if Sporritt took his attention away from the ball of fire he was about to throw he could do some serious damage to his own squadmates. There was nothing he could do about Kovus.

"I've got it." She switched her aim from the oncoming husks trying to force their way through the narrow tunnel opening to the now very awake volus. "Kovus! Stay down!" she ordered firmly, finger ready on the trigger, stock set solidly against her shoulder.

Kovus froze, staring at her, round black eyes blinking slowly. Those eyes weren't human, and try as she might Shepard couldn't read them. They flickered up at Sporritt, who had shuffled a few steps away, and over to Dangerfield and Miranda. The two of them were the weakest link. Even a failed attack on Miranda would likely free Dangerfield, meaning Kovus would have backup—

Kovus' round shoulders shifted back, and with a flash of adrenaline Shepard recognised the mnemonic for a biotic charge. She squeezed the trigger.

Somehow Kovus' shields were up and fully functional just in time to take the shots. They sparked and dropped but by then Kovus was slamming bodily into Miranda, knocking her sprawling to the floor. Shepard swore. Her angle of fire put Miranda directly in her sights as well. "Sporritt!" she called.

The engineer raised his omnitool, but Dangerfield was quicker. She lunged forward, swinging out with one arm, catching Kovus right in the face-mask.

He hadn't been expecting an attack from that direction. He stumbled back, away from Miranda, who scrambled further out of the way. Line of sight now clear, Shepard fired again, hitting Kovus directly in the back of the head. His suit ruptured, closing in on itself, and he toppled limply to the ground.

_Fuck. _Shepard gritted her teeth and forced herself to look away from the body of the volus commando who had risked his life to save dozens of civilians. The fact that he had lost his sanity and then his life to save billions more was cold comfort.

She turned her aim on Dangerfield, but the sniper threw her arms up in the air in a gesture of almost bewildered surrender. She stood motionless, shell-shocked, as Miranda got to her feet and reclaimed the hold on her arm. Shepard frowned. Did that mean she was okay? Not indoctrinated after all?

She could work that out later. She swung around to fire on the husks before they began to overwhelm Nathan and James. They were beginning to gain a foothold on the platform now. If Cortez didn't arrive soon they would be in trouble. "Husks," she snapped, more for her own benefit than that of her team. "Focus."

Nathan was grappling with one, trying to push it away far enough to let him get an angle on it with his omniblade, but it was fighting hard and more were approaching. Another grabbed his arm, and he stumbled back as he tried to stay on his feet. Quickly Shepard nailed it in the side of the head, staggering it back, then finished it off with a shot to the torso. Once it was down she switched to the other one, shooting it in the leg and neatly severing its calf from the rest of its body. Nathan pushed back on it and speared it in the side of the head with his omniblade. He cast her a quick nod of thanks then turned back to the next one coming through, omniblade up and slashing viciously. His armour was stained with black blood.

James wasn't faring much better, but he had a combination of brute strength and experience that Nathan lacked. When two husks somehow managed to grab both of his arms the big marine simply took a step back then _heaved _forward, bringing his arms in and slamming the two husks' heads together in the middle. They both thudded to the ground. Shepard smiled grimly as she took out another husk with a couple of surgical pot-shots between the eyes.

"Shuttle's here!" Miranda yelled, and what little dust there was on the platform billowed up around them as the shuttle swooped in.

"Fall back!" Shepard called, stepping up her rate of fire so the rest of her team could pull out. Sporritt was first, carrying Lan Kovus' body, followed by Miranda with Dangerfield, then Tali and Legion, who leaped effortlessly up into the hovering shuttle. "Move, move move!" she yelled, and Vega and Nathan followed. She tossed her last remaining grenade into the tunnel then turned and jumped up into the shuttle, gloved hands grabbing her arms to haul her inside.

She hit the button to close the hatch then darted forward into the cockpit. "Go, go!" she shouted, grabbing hold of the back of Cortez's jumpseat. Quickly she looked back over her shoulder to the passenger area. "Legion, time to detonation?"

"One minute, thirty-seven seconds," came the reply.

Shepard keyed her group-wide channel. "All ships, this is Commander Shepard. Get clear of this destroyer now!"

The volus bombers outside began to stream away, gunning their engines hard in an effort to reach a distance far enough away that their tiny and poorly shielded craft would be able to survive the potential explosion. Cortez, however, didn't deviate from course. He kept them just ahead of the Reaper, flying circles around its attempts to fry them on the spot, and so close to the atmosphere that he was almost skimming it. "Cortez, what are you doing?" she demanded.

"Just… if I can…" he responded distantly. They were shooting toward the other destroyer, closing the distance fast, the first hot on their heels. "Time, Legion?" he called.

"Forty-three seconds—"

"Shit, shit, shit!" Cortez swore quietly to himself, slamming the throttle open and diving the shuttle sharply toward Irune, sending Shepard stumbling back into the bulkhead behind. She heard crashing from the passenger compartment as even Legion's superlative balance failed him.

They streaked away through the atmosphere as the Reaper turned to follow, diving toward the planet's surface dizzyingly fast. The ground was rushing up at them _way _too quickly, but Shepard ignored it and kept her eyes glued to the rear vid display, holding her breath as they passed the other destroyer and it turned to follow. They both pulled off impossibly tight turns and seemed for a moment to be gaining on them. But then at the last second, Cortez heaved the shuttle up and they shot away perpendicular to the planet, careening through the atmosphere and bursting out into space once more. The Reapers followed and with the lack of atmospheric resistance began to gain on them again—

With a massive _BOOM _the first Reaper exploded in a burst of blinding red fire. Shepard was knocked off her feet as the shuttle spun end over end, thrown by the force of the explosion, inertial dampeners failing spectacularly. She slammed up into the bulkhead then back down onto the deck below before managing to grab on to Cortez's chair again, but Nathan crashed into her, knocking her grip loose and slamming her into the viewport beside the pilot's chair.

Her armour compensated for most of it, but she still had to blink away a wave of disorientation. Frantically she searched for the rear vid display, just in time to watch as the fireball that had once been a Reaper destroyer expanded over Irune. Crimson and white hot fire rippled out from the centre of the explosion, ominous purple sparks playing around the edges.

Shepard's heart leapt into her throat. _Holy shit, holy shit…_

Nathan fumbled along her arm and finally found her hand, gripping it tightly. "Shepard, look," he whispered in awe as the second Reaper tried to pull away. It pulled another of those impossible turns, but the ball of fire and death was already too close. It engulfed the second Reaper, bathing it in fire, and a moment later a second explosion whited out the vid screen.

Suddenly Nathan was yelling and wrapping his arms around her. She could hear Tali and Sporritt behind her, laughing and cheering while James let out a string of excited Spanish. Even Miranda was cheering.

Shepard could only breathe. Smile, and breathe.


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter Forty-Three**

When their barely flying shuttle finally managed to limp back to the _Normandy_, the whole crew was buzzing. A crowd had gathered in the shuttle bay, including Garrus' team and the members of the ground team Shepard had left on the ship. As they stepped out of the shuttle the entire crowd let broke out into cheers, smiling and laughing, clapping and waving their arms as though the battle had been won right here, today.

Shepard let herself be pulled along with the others into the crowd, shaking hands and accepting the congratulations of the excited crew members. Even Joker had come down from the cockpit, and was standing off to the side so as to avoid being jostled, clapping with the smirk that was his version of a smile. The entire ship was gathered here, ready to celebrate. She knew there would be a party tonight – and there should be. This was a _win. _A big win.

But Shepard didn't feel like celebrating. She made sure she appeared outwardly cheerful, while inside she was seeing the faces of that room full of indoctrinated humans as they were turned into husks. Their blank eyes and deaf ears as they unknowingly, docilely, waited for their own deaths. And she remembered slaughtering husks one by one as they rushed her, throwing incendiary grenades into their midst and burning them down where they stood.

She had killed husks before, hundreds of them, and it had never bothered her that much. They had just been another type of Reaper construct and needed to be taken out like the rest. But now… now she had a firsthand understanding of where exactly the Reapers were getting them from.

She swallowed the bitter thought and the bile that came with it, and shoved it down into a little ball, deep down inside where the fear and horror couldn't affect her. As always, she didn't have time for it. She _couldn't _have time for it.

She looked around for Legion while shaking the hand of another excited crewmember and saw he had already slipped away, no doubt heading for the AI core. Now he was back on board the _Normandy_ he could upload the data he was carrying to EDI's databanks and they could begin to analyse it.

Shepard gave EDI, Garrus, Tali and Miranda a little more time to enjoy the congratulations of the crowd before singling them out. They needed to start planning their next move, and she wanted her closest friends and advisors to be part of it. At the last minute she nodded at Nathan, too, realising with a start that even if they hadn't been seeing one another, he had earned his place at that table. He appeared a bit startled, but pushed through the crowd and joined the group as they headed up in the elevator and into the war room.

They had barely left the shuttle bay before someone started the music. Shepard managed to duck her head to hide her grimace.

The war room was silent, none of the music and rowdiness from the shuttle bay reaching into its insulated confines. Legion met them there. As they gathered around the central terminal she addressed him first. "Is the data secure?"

The metal flaps framing his single 'eye' contracted, then expanded. "Yes, Shepard-Commander. I have uploaded it into EDI's memory core. I have also prepared message packets for dissemination to the geth collective and Alliance High Command."

"Good work." She nodded to herself, satisfied. Hackett needed a copy, of course, and the geth would be able to bring significant processing power to bear on the data. They were the groups she would have chosen to receive it. Preparing message packets was all he could do right now, though, until they reached a comm buoy. "Miranda, have the mercenaries and volus pilots been picked up?"

She had only been back on the ship for a few minutes, but Miranda was already on top of things. She scanned her omnitool readout then nodded. "Efforts are now underway by the mercenary fleet, Commander. As for the volus, they have elected to remain on Irune for now. Their dreadnought is on its way back. Perhaps it will deter the Reapers from attacking again for a while."

"Perhaps," Shepard agreed doubtfully. The volus dreadnought – the only one the volus had ever constructed – was singularly powerful amongst the galaxy's collection of capital ships, but that only made it capable of lasting a little longer against a Reaper. "As soon as the mercs are safe, take us to the nearest comm buoy then back to the Citadel," she ordered.

Miranda nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Shepard turned to EDI next. "EDI, have you begun your analysis of the data?"

EDI straightened, clasping her hands behind her back. The geth collective may have significantly more processing power than EDI but they did not have the same collection of data – the same experiences – that she did. Her analysis would be highly valuable. "Yes, Commander, but I estimate it will take some time."

"I will work with EDI and Legion to try and reduce that time, Shepard," Tali spoke up, leaning forward on the console with both hands. "I do have a preliminary assessment, however."

Shepard nodded. "Go ahead."

"The dark matter battery is a very interesting find in itself, even if we don't know much about it yet," she began. "It gives us a good starting point. The energy it was generating was off the charts, enough to power a whole fleet of human ships. And I can tell just by the way it was connected to the rest of the ship that it was definitely powering something significant to the Reaper's vital systems."

"I concur with Creator-Zorah's assessment," Legion added. "Geth heretic methods of construction are similar to Reaper methods. I am familiar with the design the Reaper employed."

"Javik didn't mention anything about dark matter though," Nathan pointed out, frowning. "Wouldn't he have known about it, if it was that important?"

"I have been speaking with him from time to time," EDI mused. "I do not believe he is aware of a link between dark matter and the Reapers, although he is certainly aware of the existence of dark matter itself. None of the Protheans may have been aware of that link, as it does not seem to factor in to the Crucible plans we have found. However, although there is no specific mention of dark matter, there is also nothing in the blueprints to explain how the 'kill switch' Javik spoke of is supposed to work. We are missing significant pieces of information."

"They couldn't have created a 'kill switch' if they didn't know how it was going to work," Garrus protested.

"Perhaps the Prothean _scientists_ knew, and did not pass the exact details of the device on to the leadership of the Empire. The explanation could be hidden in a facility we have yet to find," EDI suggested.

"Javik is, by his own admission, just a soldier. Like I am," Shepard offered bluntly. "I have no idea how a Cain works but I know exactly what it'll do if I pull the trigger."

"An apt comparison," EDI said. "Perhaps, in planning and building the Crucible, the Protheans were aware of a significant energy source on board each Reaper that they could potentially sabotage to cause the Reaper's destruction. But they may not have been aware that dark matter was involved, nor that it was in fact _two _energy sources – the mass effect core and the dark matter core."

Tali was nodding in understanding. "After all, it did take us a while to realise that. So, after the Crucible failed, when they were searching for the source of the Reapers' armour, they had no way to know it could have been right in front of them all along."

Shepard crossed her arms over her chest. "There are a lot of 'maybes' there, but it's a good enough theory. We can start with that." She shook her head. "There are hundreds, if not thousands, of Reapers out there. If each one has its own dark matter energy core, how do we take them all out? We can't board all of them."

Tali said nothing, and Legion cocked his head to the side in a manner that came very close to seeming speculative. Garrus was the first to speak. "I think we're getting ahead of ourselves here, Shepard. I know you want to make plans, but EDI, Legion and Tali need time to go over the data. I think we should give them that time."

Shepard met his steady gaze and nodded reluctantly. He was right. No matter how quickly she wanted to move, she couldn't just rush in blind and she couldn't _force_ her people to come up with solutions.

"I agree," Nathan added, and she looked up to see a smile playing at his lips and a twinkle in his eye. "Shepard, we need to celebrate. We killed a _Reaper_."

"We killed _two _Reapers," Garrus corrected, mandibles flared in his own version of a grin. Without warning a laugh bubbled up to the surface, so sudden and genuine that it prompted smiles from the others as well.

To her surprise, Shepard found herself smiling too. "We did," she agreed.

Garrus strode forward and engulfed her in a tight embrace. She grunted, but his joy was infectious; she started laughing too. He and Nathan were right. They had killed two Reapers today. No one had ever done that before.

Reapers were killable. They could _win _this.

Shepard grinned, embracing everyone in the room, even Legion. The geth seemed surprised but awkwardly attempted to negotiate this decidedly familiar human behaviour. EDI managed much better than he did thanks to her extensive research on organics. She even seemed more comfortable than Miranda, who awkwardly returned her hug, shaking her head in exasperation.

Nathan gathered her up in his arms and swung her around before planting a thorough kiss on her lips, setting Tali off giggling behind them. Shepard could only laugh as she was set down slightly more dishevelled and disoriented than before. They had killed Reapers today!

"All right," she finally said, grinning up at Nathan but directing her words to the group. "Just for tonight, planning can wait. Let's go celebrate."

* * *

The party was in full swing. Music blasted from the overhead speakers and food had appeared from somewhere along with a makeshift bar by the weapons bench. Some people were dancing between the two shuttles, while others had formed small groups around the edges of the makeshift dance floor, standing or leaning on packing crates and talking animatedly about everything from the war to the latest music. To her surprise she spotted Jarvis over there, smoothly moving to the music with a stoic, focussed Ngandu. She wouldn't have picked the older marine as having any skill on the dance floor, but clearly she did. Zaeed sat off to one side talking with Garrus while surreptitiously eyeing Jarvis' moves. Shepard raised an eyebrow. It was the first time she had ever seen Zaeed show any interest in another person that was beyond grudging acceptance. She wondered if anything would come of it.

Shepard herself deliberately kept a low profile, allowing Nathan's broad shoulders to hide her from view as she stepped off the elevator, but some still tried to come to attention as she drew near. She waved them down quickly and shook hands with anyone who offered instead. She had changed out of her armour and into a casual N7 shirt and plain pants, hoping it would reinforce the idea that she was not to be saluted tonight. Tonight she was just one of the crew and she wanted to have some fun.

The _Normandy_ was on its way back to the Citadel, which would take them a good day or two. Shepard had granted ship-wide onboard liberty for the night and the following day. Only essential crew would work, and as EDI had no need for rest or relaxation she would handle a lot of extra duties to free up more of the organic crew.

EDI was still at the party, of course – Shepard had no real idea about these things, but she knew EDI had a hell of a lot of processing power and certainly had enough left over to take her mobile platform out and socialise. She was standing with Joker and the combat engineer Sporritt, who seemed more than a little intrigued by her. They were discussing something animatedly, with Sporritt gesturing from the shuttle back to EDI herself as if comparing the two while EDI had her head cocked to one side in a very human expression of bemusement.

Joker, meanwhile, was eyeing Dangerfield surreptitiously even as he kept his other eye on EDI. Joker and EDI had come a long way since the days he had spent a significant amount of time thinking of ways to mess with her. Now they seemed to have an almost symbiotic relationship, with each taking turns watching over the other. It was kind of sweet to watch, and fascinating when you considered one half of this relationship was an artificial intelligence.

Joker was clearly interested in Private Dangerfield, but Shepard wasn't sure if those feelings were reciprocated. Dangerfield was still coming to terms with the idea that she may have been indoctrinated, even if only for a brief time, and she didn't seem ready to turn her focus outward again just yet.

Shepard couldn't blame her. None of them were sure what _exactly_ had happened to her, but she had been able to fight the effects of indoctrination well enough to save Miranda's life.

Miranda was speaking to her now, although the conversation didn't appear to be going too well. The tall former Cerberus operative was clearly intimidating the hell out of the younger Dangerfield, although Shepard could tell she wasn't trying to. Shepard prodded Nathan with a finger, who swatted it away playfully but stayed at her side as she headed over.

Miranda seemed relieved to see them. "Shepard, glad you made it. Briggs."

"Miranda," Shepard greeted her. "Dangerfield, how are you feeling?"

The younger woman flushed red, but Shepard thought that had more to do with anger or frustration than embarrassment. "I'm fine, ma'am. I'm… I just can't believe that thing managed to get in my head like it did."

Shepard laid a hand on her shoulder. "But you fought it off. I've never heard of anyone being able to do that before aside from myself, and I've got a Prothean hack in my brain. You should be proud."

"You saved my bloody life," Miranda added helpfully. She really was trying to be gentle with Dangerfield. Now that she thought about it, Shepard could see a slight resemblance to Miranda's sister Oriana, just around the eyes and nose. She wondered if that had anything to do with it.

Dangerfield seemed to pick up on the friendly cues Miranda was giving her and forced a weak smile. "I suppose so."

"I'm pretty happy about that," Miranda persisted wryly, and Dangerfield laughed. "So, where are you from?" Miranda asked somewhat awkwardly, and Shepard realised she was actually trying to make friends. The woman who had once been called the Cerberus ice queen and had warned Shepard herself against trying to be friendly back when Shepard had first been brought back to life, was now making an effort to make a friend. She was kind of proud.

Shepard grinned and glanced between the two of them as Dangerfield awkwardly replied. She was suddenly unsure of what to do now. It was a relief when she felt a pull on her elbow and could allow herself to be nudged away by Nathan, who made a few motions in the direction of another part of the ship and received quick smiles and waves from Dangerfield and Miranda in reply. As they moved away he leant down to murmur in her ear by way of explanation, "You got their conversation on the right track. You don't need to hang around anymore."

"Oh," she murmured, a little surprised. She had thought it would be rude to just walk away, but she supposed Nathan had made up for it with that quick farewell.

Nathan eyed her, shaking his head ruefully. "How do you negotiate _anything_?"

She felt her cheeks warming. "Hey, I do okay," she protested.

He chuckled. "Can't argue with that, I suppose. Uh, maybe we should head over that way next…" he suggested, nodding toward a small group who had gathered around Kasumi, James and Jack. Kasumi was… upside down? Shepard raised an eyebrow and followed Nathan over. They took up a place at the edge of the circle.

Kasumi neatly stepped out of a handstand, noticing Shepard as soon as she arrived. Somehow her hood had remained securely in place despite her acrobatics. She smiled and waved. "Hey, Shep!"

"Hi, Kasumi," Shepard replied. "What are you up to?"

The thief cocked her head to the side, assuming a very well-practiced expression of innocence. "Why do you assume I'm _up _to something?"

Shepard cocked an eyebrow and tilted her head in the direction of Jack, who was clumsily trying to lunge and fall into what looked like the same upside down move Kasumi had just stepped out of. She only got partway there, her heavy boots kicking futilely at the air, before collapsing and only barely managing to catch herself in a very inelegant squat. She stood up and rounded on Kasumi angrily. "What the _hell_, Kasumi?" she demanded. "How do you _do _that?"

Kasumi winked at Shepard before shrugging innocently at Jack. "Lots of practice, I guess," she replied.

Jack shook her head. "Fuck that. If _you_ can do it…" she trailed off, staring at James, who had just kicked off into the air and was holding a perfectly balanced handstand. "No way," she exclaimed.

Shepard blinked. "Damn, Vega, I'm impressed," she admitted.

His head twitched and he looked up at her in surprise. "Commander! Uh…" Quickly he stepped down out of the handstand and raised an arm as if to salute.

She waved him down. "None of that tonight," she told him. "I'd be curious to know how you learned to do that, though."

The big lieutenant rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Uh… well, I used to be a gymnast, ma'am," he admitted.

Nathan sounded just as surprised as she was feeling. "A gymnast?" he exclaimed. "No way."

Vega shrugged. "I went to college on a gymnastics scholarship."

"Holy shit." Nathan shook his head, grinning. "I never would have picked it, man."

Vega saw the humour in it. He bent a knee and raised an arm over his head in a very rough imitation of a ballerina's graceful pose. "What, you don't think I can be graceful? I'm insulted, _amigo_."

"Dude, come on," Nathan protested, moving in closer to the circle.

Shepard decided to leave him to it. She continued on her circuit of the party, chatting briefly with as many people as she could, and surreptitiously putting Nathan's quick farewell gestures to the test as well from time to time. To her delight, they seemed to work. She found that for the first time in a long time, she was able to let herself relax. The _Normandy_ was en route to the Citadel, data was being analysed, there was nothing to fight and even all her armour and guns had been cleaned. There was nothing she could do until they arrived. That gave her a good two days of if not full relaxation, at least a reduction in pace.

She remembered Samara's advice from back when she had first spoken with the Council; she needed to stop and let herself take a breath sometimes. It was difficult to do, but coming off the back of the win they just had, she thought she could make it work.

She had only intended to stay for an hour or so, but ended up spending the whole night in the shuttle bay with her crew. Her omnitool was showing ship's time of 0400 when she finally decided enough was enough and slipped quietly out, leaving behind a party that was still more or less in full swing. As she ducked into the elevator she heard the fading sounds of an old Earth song, Don't Fear the Reaper by Blue Oyster Cult, and had to smile. Apt.

Before she returned to her cabin she decided to take one last tour of the ship, a final inspection before she officially handed things over to EDI for the night. The bridge was quiet, but she made sure to spend a few minutes with each crewmember who had drawn a short straw and was still required to be on duty. The war room was silent and still, deserted for the night, but the terminals chirped away quietly to themselves, as EDI churned through the data they had recovered from the Reaper.

On a whim Shepard stopped and pulled up a schematic of the destroyer they had boarded, studying it with something akin to admiration – a new sentiment for her when referring to a Reaper. It took her a moment of thought, but she finally realised why she was feeling it. Before the events of Irune, the Reapers had been an iron juggernaut, a dark, menacing cloud of seemingly invincible destruction. Beyond her understanding.

Not anymore. Now she knew they were not indestructible. More, she knew they could be killed without the aid of a full fleet, as Sovereign's demise had required.

They were mortal. Just like everyone else.

She looked up as the door to the security checkpoint whooshed open and Nathan entered. He gave her a knowing smile. "Thought I might find you here," he said as he approached. He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her in close, kissing her with a kind of slow satisfaction that brought pleasant little shivers to her spine.

"Had enough of the celebration?" she murmured between kisses.

"It's starting to wind down." His shoulders shifted in a shrug. "I have better things to do."

She smiled. "Did Vega teach you a handstand?"

He chuckled and nipped playfully at her bottom lip. "I know all sorts of tricks."

She was one hundred percent certain he wasn't talking about acrobatics. Well, not solo acrobatics, anyway. "Really." She ran her hands up his arms, over his shoulders and around his neck. "Care to show me?"

He pulled back long enough to glance quickly around at the empty war room before his gaze finally came to rest on the tiny communications nook in the corner. A wolfish smile spread across his lips. "Sure," he drawled.

* * *

_A/N: Wow, it's been a long time between updates! Sorry about that, but you know how it goes. RL is a bitch. It will almost certainly be longer until the next update too, but not just because real life is busy right now – I'm currently in the process of rewriting a lot of what I had written past this point. I just wasn't happy about the direction the story was taking, so I decided it had to be changed._

_Credit for that also has to go to my first negative – but constructive – review. It really got me thinking, and I appreciate that. So thank you zod6006._

_Thank you to everyone who is following and favouriting silently, too, and to every other reviewer I've had, whether your review is just a quick 'good job, keep going' or something longer. I really appreciate it. You guys keep me writing!_


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